The Children of the Phoenix
by Hannanora-Potter
Summary: When Harry is ambushed by Voldermort, the last thing he expected was to wake up on an idyllic tropical island, let alone surrounded by Phoenixes. But then, when does life ever go the way Harry expects it to?
1. Chapter One: Lost in Time

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter One – Lost in Time**

In all of time, there can only be one place that is lost to us. A thing is only lost when it simply no longer exists on this earth. If you dropped a book, then were unable to find it, then it wouldn't be lost to you – just misplaced.

But, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean there was an Island that was occasionally 'lost'. One day it would be there, sitting happily on the great depths of water, and the next you would find it no where on this Earth.

At that moment, the Island was not lost. It was waiting and had been for a few centuries. Then, one day, someone appeared on it's golden shore and the Island was gone.

_It is time._

7 7 7

"I can't believe it!" squealed Hermione, as Harry fell unceremoniously out of the fire place. She yanked him to his feet and promptly engulfed him in a huge hug. "Seventeen, finally!"

"Give him a chance to breathe, 'Mione," admonished Ron, rolling his eyes, but it was in a certainly softened tone than that of a year ago. She grinned embarrassedly and pulled out of Harry's embraced – which had been rather mono-directional – and punched playfully at her boyfriend. Ron affected a wounded expression for a while, but that quickly slipped away as Hermione kissed him on the cheek.

Flushing slightly, Ron moved forward to clap Harry on the back, grinning. "So, how are you, mate?" he asked, leaning against the fireplace. Ron had changed a lot since Harry had first met him. He had grown into his height gracefully and his time as Gryffindor's Keeper had done a lot for his build. He seemed much more…well, confident, somehow. Harry didn't know if this was because he felt comfortable with who he was…or if it had to do with the bushy haired brunette that was reclining in the battered old arm chair.

"Fine," said Harry and this was immediately true. "I'm never going to have to set foot in Number Four Privet Drive ever again! How much better could life get?"

He got his answer immediately when Ron summoned some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen.

Hermione was the one to roll her eyes this time. "Boys," she muttered, resignedly, "always thinking with their stomachs." But, then again, she didn't exactly decline when they were offered to her.

"So, where are the rest of the family?" asked Harry, peering around, as if the Weasley's might suddenly burst out of the walls. Usually they all met him when he fell out of the fireplace and the lack of red heads was rather noticeable. Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, tended to make enough noise for ten people.

"Ouff th' bacff," began Ron, but swallowed when he caught Hermione's glare. "Sorry – habits, you know?" He turned back to Harry. "They're out the back, putting up a new extension."

Actually now that Ron mentioned it, he could hear a few faint crashes coming from the Yard. "Extension?" he asked.

Ron made a face. "Fred and George have claimed that they need more room for experiments."

"I don't get it," said Harry, confused. "Why are they still living here anyway? They've got heaps of galleons – I mean they bought out Zonkos just last year. Why haven't they got a place of their own?"

Ron laughed. "Well, they told mum that it was something about missing their mother when they weren't here – you know, the Burrow means so much to them and all that. But really, they just like her cooking."

Harry laughed, but was cut off as a particularly loud crash echoed from the yard. Shortly after, it was followed by Mrs Weasley's yells.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" she bellowed. "WILL YOU _STOP_ MESSING AROUND WITH THAT AND BEHAVE LIKE THE MATURE, SENSIBLE ADULTS YOU'RE _SUPPOSED_ TO BE!"

"I don't get it," Harry confessed to Ron. "I thought you could just, well, wave you wands and you'd have a new room."

Ron snickered. "Yeah, well, that's how it's supposed to be done," he agreed, picking up another cookie, "but Dad suddenly decided that we were going to attempt this the muggle way."

"You're kidding!" Harry's mouth was open slightly.

"He's not," confirmed Hermione, leaning forward in her chair, eyes concerned. "I really don't know what to do. None of them have any clue how to work with the equipment and Fred and George are just using it to launch catapults at the garden." Her eyes narrowed. "Actually, I think there's something wrong with the equipment, too. Unless," she asked, looking up at the two of them – Ron, in particular – "cement mixers do spit out multi coloured blobs of cement every five turns?"

"Ginny!" cried Ron, springing around with relief to face the doorway. Harry and Hermione looked over at the doorway – the, empty doorway. A mild breeze and a blur of colour flashed past Harry's vision before there was a bang of the door, indicating that Ron had taken a run for it, rather than face Hermione.

Hermione stared at the door for a while, her expression lingering between a frown and an exasperated smile, before turning back to Harry.

"So, have you studied for the apparition test yet?"

7 7 7

_"Happy Birthday to You!_

_Happy Birthday to You!_

_Happy Birthday dear Harry!_

_Happy Birthday to You!"_

Harry gave a sort of embarrassed grin before moving over to blow out all the candles on the monstrous sized cake that Mrs Weasley had baked for him. They were cheers and applause as he blew out all the candles. There was a loud flash and a lot of smoky fumes as someone took a photo. Harry couldn't believe it. 17 at last. He had made it – he had survived the Dursleys, he had survived school – well, more or less – and now he was free. He could use magic, he could live on his own – heck, he didn't even have to go to school anymore. 

Today was a rare escape from the realities of the real world today. The very real reality of Voldermort, Death Eaters and, indeed, death itself. Over the past two years Voldermort had been fighting and destroying anything he could get his hands on, slowly and slowly drawing more and more of their world into darkness.

Harry, being the only person who could defeat Voldermort, was definitely feeling a lot of pressure and usually he would carry his problems with him where ever he went, but now he had found that relaxing every now and then, enjoying life, was essential to prevent a total nervous breakdown.

Everyone was here for him – the Weasley's, all his friends, Hagrid, most of the Order of the Phoenix – though, thankfully, not Snape – but including people like Dumbledore, Tonks, Mundungus Fletcher, Kingsley Shacklebot and even Arabella Figg! And, where would any party be without Remus and Sirius (as Snuffles, of course)?

Harry was even more embarrassed to see that not only did he get the biggest slice of cake – just over a quarter – but that he also had an extremely high pile of presents. '_Are there that many things in the world to buy?_' he wondered dazedly as he bit into his chocolate cake. It was delicious.

"You alright there, Harry?" asked Seamus Finnigan, laughing as he surveyed Harry's slab of cake. "Looks like you got enough there t'feed an army!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah," he agreed, holding it up and studying the triple layered creamy chocolate cake, complete with miniature moving dragons. "Well, if I don't finish it, I know I can always give it to Ron."

At this, Ron's head popped up from the piece of cake he was currently demolishing. "Wha's 'at? 'idge um en a or 'ood?"

Everyone laughed as Ron looked hopefully around. Mrs Weasley shook her head and scowled slightly. "Ronald Weasley!" she barked.

Ron pulled a face, swallowed and said, "Sorry, mum," in such a meek voice that everyone started laughing again.

So much laughter, carefree fun – somewhere inside of him, Harry knew it was too good to last.

**BOOM!**

Several people screamed as one half of the room promptly blew up. Glass, wood splinters, chairs, presents where flying everywhere and people were running in a stampede to get out of the way. Instead of getting out of the way, Harry tentatively took a few steps forward, ignoring all the jostling people. Behind him, he heard Hermione and Ron trying to do the same. Then there was a chorus of cracks and a hail of curses. Harry whipped around.

The Death Eaters had surrounded them.

Accompanied by another, particularly loud, crack, a great flash of light illuminated the scene and Harry jumped back and felt a stab of fear driving at his heart. '_No, no, NO!_' Harry's panicked thoughts were tumbling around his brain, spouting gibberish. '_I'm not ready – I can't die!_'

Voldermort had arrived.

And he had his wand pointed straight at Harry.

Harry swallowed and tried not to pear around for Dumbledore as he desperately wanted to do. '_Where is he?_' Harry wondered, frantically.

**_'This is your fight, Harry,'_** said a small voice, **_'and Dumbledore knows it. It's time to face him.'_**

'_But I'm not ready!_' Harry pointed out. '_Dumbledore knows that, too. He would never…_'

But what Dumbledore would, or would not, do had just been answered for him. Just out of the corner of his eye, he could see a figure sprawled on the floor, half buried under the falling walls. A figure with shattered half moon spectacles and an extremely long beard.

"No!" Harry whispered, but it was time to face facts – Dumbledore was dead. He was on his own.

All the while this had been going on, Voldermort had been standing, grinning at Harry, wand aiming at his heart. He mistook the horror on Harry's face as fear of him and cackled. "Yes, Potter – it's time to die. Ordinarily, I would have enjoyed torturing you a bit, giving you a chance, but too many times have you gotten away from me." The red eyes narrowed with hate. "I'll not risk that this time. _Impedimentia_!"

Before Harry could even draw a breath, he had been frozen to the spot. As Voldermort's pale lips curved up into a cruel smile, Harry could only think, '_I've failed them – I've failed everyone,_' before Voldermort spoke the last words he would ever hear;

"So long, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. _Avada Kedavra_!"

Closing his eyes to the world, Harry saw no more.

7 7 7

Sirius watched, horror struck, as Voldermort froze his Godson in place, helpless against the Dark Lords attacks. Sirius struggled with all his might to reach him, but he had been placed under the full body bind and only fell onto his face.

He had transformed back into himself as soon as trouble had first arisen, which, he told himself angrily was really stupid. If he hadn't, then maybe he would have been in a position to help Harry now.

Helpless tears forcing their way out of his eyes, Sirius watched history repeat itself. Here he was, again, as someone he loved was being murdered by Voldermort. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away from this morbid scene.

Vaguely he heard Voldermort speak, as though in a dream, "So long, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived." Then, the killing curse burst eagerly from those lips, like they had many a time before – just as they had done for Lily and James.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

But the jet of light that shot out of it was not the same. Instead of a stream of green, this spell was the purest white and spread out in a globe that encompassed the entire battle pitch. Sirius had to shut his eyes to prevent himself being blinded, but even then the light pressed on his eyeballs.

Slowly, the light faded. Sirius opened his eyes and waited impatiently as sunspots danced in front of them. The curse was wearing off slightly, but Sirius didn't care. As soon as his eyes cleared, he peered intently at the spot where Harry had last stood, fearing the worst. Then he gasped.

Harry wasn't there.

Voldermort wasn't there.

The Death Eaters weren't there

It was just him and the rest of the party goers. Feeling the curse slide off of him, Sirius scrambled to his feet and ran unsteadily on cramped legs – had it really been that long? – to the last place he had seen his Godson.

"Harry?" he called, uncertainly. But no, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Behind him he heard a short gasp and a lot of scrambling. Turning around hopefully, he only saw Hermione and Ron running over to where – '_Oh no,_ thought Sirius, feeling a great swell of depression sinking into him.

Dumbledore was dead.

Unable to put words to how he felt, Sirius put his face in his hands and began to howl.

7 7 7

As Harry's body had never been found, the world continued to hope that their saviour had, indeed, survived. But when Voldermort and his Death Eaters returned, there was still no sign of the Boy-Who-Lived and, as the years went by the world gradually lost hope.

They kept fighting, of course, but with no hope of ever succeeding, it became harder and harder to keep their spirits up.

7 7 7

Harry vaguely felt a wind tugging at his clothes and hair and a vague sensation that he was travelling.

'_So this is what it's like when your dead,_' Harry thought glumly. He didn't really pay it too much attention, overwhelmed with thoughts of remorse, regret – and of his failure.

Because of him, Harry, Ron and Hermione would die – probably tortured for hours or ending up insane. Sirius and Lupin – Harry fought back a sob – could meet a worse fate than that. And Dumbledore – well, he was already dead, wasn't he? He probably got lucky.

Then his limp form slammed into a floor of some kind. '_OW!_' thought Harry, angrily. '_Is this anyway to show respect for the dead?_'

But then Harry reminded himself that he didn't deserve any more respect – he was a failure.

"My, my, he's certainly happy bunny, isn't he?"

Harry's eyes flew open.

He was on a beach, with seemingly perfect golden shore. Gently lapping at the sand was a perfectly turquoise Mediterranean sea. And, sitting all around him, were phoenixes.

Well, he thought they were Phoenixes. They looked similar to Fawkes, the only phoenix Harry had ever met, anyway, especially the red ones. But phoenixes were all one colouring weren't they? Harry was sure that "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" would have mentioned if they weren't.

"Be quiet, Riva!" snapped a voice. This one was different to the one that had spoken first and was older and male. "And what's a 'bunny'?"

"Um, well… I don't now," the first voice admitted, somewhat sheepishly. This was definitely female and sounded rather young.

Harry twisted his head around, trying to find the sources of these voices. All he couldn't see anything but Phoenixes.

The man tutted. "You've been listening to young Frazzle's wild stories again, haven't you?" There was an uncomfortable silence, which the man obviously took for a yes. "You shouldn't believe everything that he says you know. He's a real wild one."

While this was going on, Harry was getting more and more confused. Where were these voices coming from? '_Wait,_' thought Harry suddenly. '_They're not coming from the Phoenixes are they?_'

Suddenly, Riva giggled. "Oh, Grandfather, we're confusing him – we forgot to make our selves visible!"

"What? Oh."

And with a sudden flurry of wings, two people appeared in front of Harry. It was a slight understatement to say that he gave an almighty jump. Several of the nearby Phoenixes squawked and jumped aside, fluttering their wings.

Riva's Grandfather was a tall man, with many wiry muscles that were clearly visible through his lack of top. Harry had trouble believing that he was a Grandfather at all – he was smooth skinned, with a dark tan and a crop of black hair. If not for his eyes – that reminded Harry slightly of Dumbledore's in green contacts – he would have guessed this man was only in his early thirties.

Riva, however, looked the age she sounded – in other words, around fifteen/sixteen. She too had black hair, although it curled down her back in elegant braids. Her eyes – a vivid blue – sparkled mischievously and Harry immensely thought that this was a person he was going to like.

"Hi!" she said, enthusiastically.

"Erm, hi," Harry returned, somewhat uncertainly. "Er, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Riva and this is my grandfather, Maali," she told him, still grinning, now bouncing slightly up and down on the spot.

Harry was taken aback – was she always this happy? As he saw Maali rolling his eyes he got his answer – yes.

"Um, I'm Har-" he began, but was cut off by Riva almost immediately.

"Harry Potter, yes, we know," she dismissed flapping a hand at him. "Do you think that we just bring random people to our island?"

Harry didn't know quite what to say here. In the end he settled for "You're island?"

Riva opened her mouth to speak again, but was stopped when Maali put his hand on her shoulder. "Not so fast, Riva, dear. Maybe we should tell him who we are, first?"

"Huh?" Now Harry was really confused. '_Do they have short term memory loss problems, or something?_' he thought, reflecting back to the rare opportunity he'd had to watch 'Finding Nemo', and groaning inwardly.

Almost as if he could read Harry's mind, the man laughed gain. "No, don't worry – we're not insane. What I meant to tell you was what are race is called."

"Oh." Harry took a moment to digest this. "Are you not human then?"

"Well…yes and no," answered Maali, smiling at him.

Then Riva, who had pouted slightly when Maali had interrupted her before, grinned again and informed him happily, "We're the Children of the Phoenix."

7 7 7

Thanks for reading.

Luv,

Hannanora-Potter xxx


	2. Chapter Two: Welcome to the New World

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**waffle** = mind speech

**Chapter Two – Welcome to the New World**

The sun was setting. And not just setting – it seemed to be dying, throwing out streams of deep red light, accented by hints of deeper blues and purples. It bathed the rough countryside of Dorset in it's light, as though the fading glory was the death throes of the ancient star.

With a crack like a whip, two people appeared in the field, so suddenly that you would think it was by magic.

They were both very alike and could be taken for father and daughter. They both had white blond hair, the man's short and cropped, the girl's longer, and flowing down her back in soft waves. Both had striking, clear turquoise eyes that seemed to shine in the dying throes of the sun and very pale white skin. But if you actually bothered to stop and watch them, you would be puzzled.

The man was very young – in fact, he was only 22 years old. Too young, therefore, to reasonably have a daughter that looked to be 7 or 8 years old. As the man, gave his head a little shake and looked about him, the girl gazed around with interested eyes that showed wisdom and knowledge beyond what her appearance suggested.

Without a word, both of them immediately started walking in the direction of the poorly maintained road at one end of the field.

"So, this is England, huh?" asked the girl, looking up at the man with her wide eyes.

At first, the man didn't seem to hear. Instead, he was looking about him in an expression of sorrow and old pain. Then he turned to look down at her. "Yep."

"A bit small, isn't it?" asked the girl, looking around again, her nose wrinkled slightly. "And by Merlin does it smell!"

The man rolled his eyes. "Riva, I still must confess to be confused," the man told her dryly. "Why are you here?"

This time, it was Riva who rolled her eyes. "Harry, we've been over this," she told him, with the tone of someone who has explained this many times. "The Council feel that your best chance of penetrating either Hogwarts or the resistance movement is by posing as a parental figure. And," she added, "what is a parental figure without a child? So, voila, me!" She beamed at him.

Harry grinned at her. "I get that," he said, "but I asked why you?"

Instantly, the smile was replaced by a scowl. As Harry laughed, she poked her tongue out at him. "As it so happens," Riva informed Harry pompously, drawing herself up – which, in a girl of seven years old, was not particularly high – "I happen to have studied with the Phoenixes for all my life, whereas you have only been there, what, 5 years?" As they neared the road, she stopped walking and turned to glare at him. "Like it or not, Harry Potter, the Council feel you're not ready enough to face the world without an advisor or guardian. You need help, you need a mentor – cause, let's face it, without it you'd just get into loads of trouble and need rescuing…"

She suddenly trailed off. There was a faint roaring in the distance. Harry, even after five years absence from the muggle world could recognise a car when he heard one, but Riva had never been off the Phoenix Island. As the car – a rather rusty, dust covered Ford Mondeo – raced towards them she gave a horrendous shriek.

"HOLY MERLIN!" she screamed, running to hide behind Harry. "IT'S A BLOODY DEMON!"

As the car raced past them, Harry turned around, grinning, to face the shaking girl. "And you think _I'm_ going to need rescuing?"

It was a mark of just how scared Riva was that she did not glare at Harry. 5 years had made Riva more mature, but it didn't mean she was any less hyperactive. But now, Riva was just pale and mouthing wordlessly at the retreating vehicle in a way that reminded Harry painfully of Ron.

Finally, it seemed, Riva recovered from her shock enough to speak. "What was that?"

"It was a car," Harry replied, turning away so that she would not see his smirk.

"And what, might I ask, is a car?" she snapped, still slightly breathless, but regaining her former spirit quickly.

Harry turned and faced her. "It's an vehicle – like a horse and carriage." He laughed as Riva gave a very disbelieving snort. "Seriously, it is! Except it runs on it's own power and doesn't rely on horses. It's a muggle invention, but a lot of wizards use them, too."

"Wow," breathed Riva, eyes wide. "A car."

"Well, if you thought that was impressive, wait until you see this," Harry told her, flinging out his right hand.

Nothing happened.

'_What?_'

"Well?" asked Riva, shivering slightly in her thin, dark purple cloak, and glaring at him. "What's supposed to be happening?"

Harry didn't answer, drawing his hand back. Frowning slightly, he flung it out again. Still nothing happened. "I don't understand," he muttered to himself, staring up and down the road. The Knight Bus was nowhere in sight. "It's supposed to come straight away – I don't understand…"

"Don't understand _what_?" snapped Riva impatiently.

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he told her, though he was beginning to feel slightly uneasy. "We'll just have to apparate."

"But you said that was a bad idea!" Riva protested, peering intently at him. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. "Absolutely nothing – just a…um… slight change of plans."

Riva sighed but, thankfully, didn't ask any more questions for which Harry was immensely grateful. The absence of the Knight Bus could be explained by any number of perfectly good reasons – it's just that Harry couldn't think of any.

"So, where are we apparating to?"

Harry looked at her and grinned. "The Leaky Cauldron."

7 7 7

With a faint crack, Harry re-appeared in the Leaky Cauldron. For a moment he couldn't see anything. Their sudden arrival had whipped up layers upon layers of dust that made him cough. While he waited for the dust to settle, the uneasy feeling that he had tried to quash earlier returned, full throttle.

Harry knew Old Tom the barman – and he would never leave his bar in such a state. So where had all this dust come from. Instincts that had been inbred in him all his life flared to life and he crouched ready in a fighting stance and reached for Riva's hand. Although she may have been 19 years old in real life, at the moment – for all intents and purposes – she was just 7.

As the dust began to clear, he could make out dark shapes moving, closing in on them. Suddenly he heard someone bark, "_STUPEFY_!" and a jet of red light streamed towards them.

With a stifled yell Harry and Riva jumped apart. It was a narrow escape: Harry could feel the heat of it as it brushed past his arm. But now was not the time to sit and think. More dust had been kicked up by their antics making it even harder to see their attackers. He needed to grab Riva and go – obviously Diagon Alley wasn't safe anymore.

"There's one!"

'_Ooops!_' Harry thought as he whipped around to face a man sized like a bear – wearing the robes of a death eater. '_Too much time standing around_.'

The Death Eater opened his mouth to curse Harry, but Harry was quicker. Before the other man had even raised his wand Harry had sent a stunner streaming at him and was already moving away before the stupid idiot had realised he'd been hit.

Another Death Eater launched himself on his back and attempted to strangle Harry. Harry was finding it very hard to stand upright as the second Death Eater felt like he weighed more than even the first. Legs screaming in protest, Harry managed to fling him off his back. There was a loud crash and a sickening snap as the Death Eater hit the wall.

Trying very hard not to think about the dead body not two inches from his left foot, Harry continued to search for his companion – or, dare he say it, daughter.

'_This is impossible!_' thought Harry, desperately trying to see through the clouds of dust that were choking him. '_I'll never find Riva like this! I'm more likely to hex than save her!_' Getting his wand into his hand, he bellowed "_SCOURGIFY_!"

Immediately the dust disappeared and silence fell as the two sides faced each other. Riva, it had appeared, had just been standing meekly against one wall doing nothing. But then Harry spotted a couple of Death Eaters who had slash marks down their chests – maybe she hadn't been quite so dormant after all.

The Death Eaters were definitely worse off. Three of them, it transpired had been having a furious duel with each other and their numbers had been depleted by both him and Riva. As both scrambled to other sides of the small parlour room, one of the Death Eaters snatched off his mask and stood glaring at them. His white-blond hair – so like their own – was slightly mussed up from the fight and his grey eyes glared hatefully at them in a manner that was not very different from the last time Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy.

"You may think you're clever," he snarled, clenching fists crushing the mask, "with your curses and all, but for people who defy the power of the Dark Lord their only escape is death."

A small hand grabbed his. Riva had crept up to him and was now holding his hand and glaring forcefully at the Lucius with wide, blue eyes. While the Death Eater had been talking, Riva had been preparing a portkey, the magic being hooked into Harry's cloak. Apparition wards had been set up around the dilapidated pub, and while they could still apparate, they didn't want to give the Death Eater's even more cause to remember them by.

The movement brought Malfoy's attention to the small girl and he smirked at her. "Well, well, well," he said, exchanging a significant glance with a Death Eater next to him. "You've got a child."

"And the award for observation goes to?" snapped Harry, sarcastically, but his attention was diverted as Riva sent him a message.

**Where are we going?**

Malfoy, not hearing her silent question, merely grinned more at Harry. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," he said softly, peering intently at Harry with his grey eyes. "It's just that torturing children is one of Pansy's favourite past times."

As the shortest Death Eater ripped off her own hood, Harry stiffened in shock. He wasn't the only one. Riva, in the beginning of asking another question, stopped suddenly and was gazing at the Death Eater in mingled fear and disgust – but, most of all, with rage. Harry could literally feel the anger radiating off her and her grip on his hand became much tighter.

But Harry hardly paid her any attention. '_Pansy?_' he thought, still in shock. '_Pansy _Parkinson_? It can't be!_' But there was no denying it as she smirked at him in the way that he so well remembered. It as definitely her, but she looked about thirty!

'_But that means..._' Harry thought suddenly, feeling cold, '_that that's _Draco_! Not Lucius – Draco!_' Harry was paralysed with confusion and shock. How could both Draco and Pansy look as if they'd aged fifteen years, when he'd only been away five? '_Maybe this is what becomes of being a Death Eater,_' Harry thought, but without humour.

Meanwhile, Riva was tugging on his sleeve. "Daddy?" she asked, turquoise eyes wide, while her mind shrieked at him; **Harry, what the _hell_ are you doing! Finish the bloody portkey! I have no particular desire to be tortured today!**

"Right," Harry mumbled, shaking his head and plastering a smirk on his face, although his knees were still trembling slightly (he hoped no one would notice – how embarrassing!). Malfoy and the other Death Eaters looked rather taken aback as even Riva grinned at them. "Sorry, Malfoy," drawled Harry, in a fair imitation of the Death Eater himself, "but neither me nor my daughter are in the mood for a torture session today. So go back and tell your _master_ that I said 'hi'."

As Malfoy's face contorted into one of fury, Harry finished the spell required for the Portkey, adding in the location: Hogwarts…

And, for the third time that day, Harry disappeared into a world of rushing wind and colour.

7 7 7

As soon as his feet hit the rather sodden ground, Harry dropped Riva's hand and turned to glare at her. "What the _hell_ is going on?" he yelled, glaring at her forcefully.

Riva looked at him in shock. "What do you mean?"

"What do I _mean_?" repeated Harry, furiously. "Why is everyone _old_?"


	3. Chapter Three: Both Sides of the Wall

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**waffle** = mind speech

**Chapter Three: Both Sides of the Wall**

****

The ever-present wind began to build in strength and Ronald Weasley bit his lip as it tried to throw him off the high wall that surrounded the perimeter of Hogwarts. Longingly he thought of the cup of hot tea that would be waiting for him when he got back inside the Castle. Hermione always had it ready for him after a guard shift – not too strong, but milky and hot.

A splatter of rain on his nose made him jump. Great. It was raining. All he needed to make this day even more perfect. Sighing, he dragged his mind away from longing thoughts of his wife and back to the present situation.

It was no secret that Ronald Weasley despised these shifts. Everyone did. Everyone hated them with a passion – even the usually calm Lupin. But they had to be done.

'_It didn't use to be that bad_', thought Ron, as he peered out over the sodden expanse of former forest that had been cleared for better sight. '_Only once every two months. Even_ I _could handle that_.' He sighed again. But that was when they were plenty of witches and wizards in the Castle. Now, they weren't even a tenth of that number. They had been picked off, one by one, their numbers dwindling slowly.

Now guard duty came once a fortnight – even once a week if there had been a bad attack. Trying to stretch out cramped muscles, Ron reflected that he hated this for a different reason now. At first, he had hated the endless wind, the frequent cold and the sick feeling that every witch and wizard used to get – anxious that there might be an attack and excitement at the chance of winning back against the plague of evil that was trying to force out there existence.

Now, however, Ron simply hated the principle of it.

_Guard_ Duty. Just sitting there, doing nothing but guarding. But that was the whole problem now – Hogwarts was on the defensive. He remembered before, when he was with Harry. He smiled sadly. He didn't think Harry knew the meaning of the word 'defensive' – he would tell them all that they were just sitting around doing nothing. "And nothing comes of nothing," mumbled Ron under his breath, quoting both his friend and King Lear.

And, worst of all, Harry was right. How could they possibly win back their lives if all they did was sit inside the bloody castle? They might as well stuff they castle and present it to Voldermort on a silver platter! He had tried to get his point of view across to the others, saying that it was what Harry would have wanted.

But then Hermione pointed out that Harry was dead.

The rain began to increase, the skies driving water droplets forcefully against his bare skull. Ron whispered a spell under his breath to reflect the rain and once again raked his gaze half-heartedly against the landscape in front of him. He froze.

Someone was there.

Tensing and adjusting his position into a battle ready crouch, Ron readied his wand. He looked down the wall to see that Neville and Grace had both seen and were also readying themselves for battle. As he peered through the falling rain at the moving figure, he silently thanked Merlin that they had this invisibility cloak. It – and it's magic – had been enlarged, so that it's length covered the entire platform of the wall, making them invisible to their enemy. Unfortunately, Ron grimaced, the fabric was now so stretched that it didn't even stop the rain from soaking them.

Suddenly the rain stopped. Ron was astonished, but quickly put that out of his mind as his gaze focused on their 'attackers'. Ron almost snorted – Neville clearly did. Ron shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted as he took in the full absurdity of the situation.

There were two people approaching the gates. One was a young man, about mid-twenties, with white blonde hair that reached down to his shoulders. He had a muscular build, but was still quite slight. His bright blue eyes gazed sharply at the wall, expression unreadable, although Ron thought he could detect a hint of shock.

Holding on to his hand – and chattering at the top of her voice – was a small child, only seven or eight in age. She could only be his daughter. Her hair, also white blonde, was long and trailed down her back in small waves. As she appeared to catch sight of the wall, she shut up and stared at it, too.

Ron shivered slightly. The unwavering gaze of the two was quite unnerving, almost as if they were looking right through him – which, Ron reminded himself, they probably were. For a moment, though, the man appeared to lock eyes directly with Ron. For a split second, Ron thought that the man could see him, but then his gaze moved onwards, sliding past him. Ron let out an almost audible sigh of relief. '_Don't be such an idiot_', he chided himself angrily, even as his grip on his wand tightened. '_No one can see through an invisibility cloak_.'

The little girl opened her mouth and began to speak again, still eyeing the wall. Signalling to Neville and Grace, Ron pulled an Extendable Ear from his pocket and watched it slide down the wall and speed towards the pair. Within a few seconds, he could hear what they were saying.

"…didn't _know_ it was here, 'Bell," sighed the man, looking down at the small girl.

"But _why_ didn't you know?" asked Bell tugging on her fathers sleeve.

"Well, I've never been to Hogwarts before, sweetheart," the man replied, once again staring at the wall. "I don't know what it's supposed to look like."

"Oh." The little girl seemed to ponder this for a while. "How're we gonna get in?"

The man smiled, still looking at the wall. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Ron had heard enough – motioning at Neville, he raised his wand. The invisibility cloak was whipped off and before it had even cleared his head he bellowed, "_STUPEFY_!"

The red beam hit the man in the chest and he fell backwards, surprise etched into his face. The little girl watched, horrified, as her father fell to the ground. She stared at him for a few seconds before screaming hysterically.

"DADDY!!! You KILLED **DADDY**!!!!!"

Ron winced and ripped out the Extendable Ear, cursing – the girl could scream _very_ loudly. For once, he was very glad of being the senior wizard on the witch. He could give the task of retrieving the two to Neville and Grace whilst he called the Castle.

As Neville and Grace headed down to the other side of the wall, Ron reached for the small mirror that he kept on his person at all times. Holding his thumb over it, he winced as it nipped the skin causing it to bleed slightly. Moving his thumb and whispering the password – "Phoenix" – the small image of his wife appeared in the mirror.

Hermione smiled at him. "Hey, Ron. You would never believe what Allie just did!"

Ron cut her off before she could continue. "Sorry, Herm, but I need you to tell whoever's awake that we've..."

"I WANT MY **_DADDY_**!"

Hermione frowned at him. "What in Merlin's name was that?"

Ron grimaced, as another, increasingly loud, yell reached their ears. "That's why I need you to go get someone," he told her. "We just caught two people trying to get into the castle."

"NOOOOO!! GET AWAY FROM ME – DAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

"And hurry!" Ron told his wife as he broke the connection. The strange man was floating in front of Neville, but poor Grace was trying to carry the small child, who was kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. Eventually, Neville had to drop the man and go back to help Grace. Ron groaned.

It was going to be a long night.

7 7 7

**On the other side of the Wall:**

Harry paused as he came across the great expanse of dirt that should have been the outer rim of the Forbidden Forest. Riva looked at him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, looking at him in concern.

Harry didn't answer her, but instead started craning his neck, trying to look ahead. "This is wrong," he mumbled, looking around again. There was a pause I which Riva looked at him expectantly. Catching her gaze, he sighed and elaborated. "There should be part of the Forest here – but it's all gone."

"Oh." Riva didn't know quite what to say to this, so she just waited whilst Harry peered ahead through the ever increasing wind. When Harry appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, she said, tentatively, "Harry?"

Harry jumped. It appeared he had forgotten that Riva was there. "What? Oh, sorry," he apologised, before reaching for her hand. "Come on then."

Riva stared at the offered hand and drew herself up, haughtily. "It may have escaped your notice, Harry," she sniffed, starting to walk forward, "but I am perfectly capable of walking on my ow!" And she tripped on a dead root and fell flat on her face in the mud.

Harry knew better than to laugh at Riva, but it was very hard. As Riva groaned and pushed herself off the ground, face dripping with mud, Harry tried to keep his face sober as he commented, "Yep, _really_ able."

Riva scowled at him and Harry burst out laughing. After a while she began to smile, too as she waved a hand over her sodden clothes. The mud immediately dissipated and her purple cloak was once again warm and dry. "All right," she said, reaching out to take his hand, "joke's over. Come on."

Still sniggering slightly, Harry complied, carefully checking the mud for small dips or roots that could trip him up – the last thing he would want would be for Riva to have some reason to feel superior.

As they continued their silent walk, Harry's smile faded as he thought about his friends. He just couldn't believe that they were now ten, or more, years older than him. It seemed crazy, an impossible notion, almost as ridiculous as the idea of…well, magic. Harry's heart sank as he thought of this. Years ago, before he knew that he was a wizard, he had thought that magic was impossible. Thrilling, yes, but impossible, nonetheless. Was this any different? He had thought time travel impossible – enter the time turner. He had thought dragons, goblins, elves, griffins and chimaeras impossible. Harry sighed heavily as he realised that he was beginning to accept what Riva said as true. He had thought many things impossible – from now on, he wouldn't dismiss any idea for impossible. Because nothing was.

"Harry, what's that?"

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts as Riva spoke, attention fixed on something on the horizon. Harry looked and saw it, too. '_What the…?_'

It was still quite a way ahead of them, but it looked like a wall. Not just any wall – like the small rambling ones that you find in old ladies gardens or the wall of a room – but a huge wall. It stretched the entire length of the horizon, the huge construction encircling a small castle that was seen in the distance. With another, unpleasant, jolt, Harry realised that that 'small' castle, was Hogwarts. He blinked in astonishment at the sheer size of the wall.

He could tell it had been there a long time. The stones looked scarred and pitted – against the dark green of growing moss, Harry could see blackened marks where a spell had assaulted the wall. He shuddered. When he had first arrived at Hogwarts 11 – no, that would be 16 years ago now – years ago, he had realised that Hogwarts was in every inch and way a castle – and a castle tends to be a fortress. But after that first impression, Hogwarts had become his school and then his home. But now………Hogwarts really was a fortress.

And Harry wasn't sure he appreciated the change.

A slight movement caught Harry's eye. Huddled on top of the wall was a small figure. He stared at the figure, but his view was quickly obstructed by the sudden down pour of rain. Harry stole a glance at Riva.

"What?" she asked, catching his glance.

He waved his hand in the air, the rain shifting to avoid touching him. "Did you do this?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," Riva answered, trying to smile but she looked a bit doubtful at his tone. "I thought it would give us a bit of cover."

Harry shook his head thoughtfully. "No, the only way into Hogwarts is through the wall. Even Hogsmeade is inside it so the secret passageway is out."

"Well, we can't exactly just go up there and ask them to let us in," commented Riva, but she, too, looked thoughtful. "We don't know if anyone's there, anyway."

Harry gave her a strange look. "What do you mean?" he asked, fingering his wand in one hand. "There _was_ someone there."

"No there wasn't," replied Riva, frowning.

"I saw someone."

"Well, I didn't."

"Maybe they're invisible," suggested Harry, deep in thought. "After all, I _can_ see through that kinda thing and you can't."

Riva thought this over for a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah, that would explain it." She glanced over to the distant Wall, a murky, menacing figure through the rain. "So, plan of action?"

"Just follow my lead," was all Harry said, before strolling casually up to the Wall. Riva had to run to keep up with him.

"Slow down, will you?" she hissed as she grabbed a hold of his hand. "I know that normally I can outrun you 9 times out of 10, but this isn't exactly normal, is it?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but slowed down. "Oh, and Riva?" She looked up at him expectantly. "Get rid of the rain."

With a slight wave of her hand, the rain stopped and the vast space leading up to the wall was bathed in sunshine. Harry suppressed an exasperated sigh. **Not like that, you idiot!**

Riva, thankfully, did not reply, all though her grip on Harry's hand tightened painfully. Bodily contact was, unfortunately, necessary for their mind talk – plus it went with their father/daughter guise. Harry looked at the Wall with fascination. It had to be one of the ugliest, most ominous things he had ever seen, in his life. '_And that_,' Harry thought, '_is saying something_._ After all, I've lived with the Durselys._'

"Start talking, Riva," he whispered, under his breath. "I need some cover."

"What about?" she hissed back, looking at him.

"Anything."

She sighed in annoyance, but quietly, and began to chatter at him at the top of her voice. "So, Daddy, when will we get there, Daddy? Are we there yet, Daddy? I'm tired! My feet hurt! Plus, Daddy" – here she tugged on Harry's arm and whispered quietly, "I need to _go_, Daddy!"

Here Harry almost cracked up laughing. He was starting to regret asking Riva to talk. Her voice was getting higher and higher and was _very_ distracting. Now she was prattling on about all the new toys that she was hoping to get – not to mention a very flash broom.

**Alright, alright! I give up already!** Harry snapped mentally. **Shut up and look at the Wall!**

Harry caught sight of Riva's repressed grin, as she turned and suddenly 'noticed' the Wall. Harry had to grudgingly admit that her wide eyed fascination was very realistic – not that Harry would ever tell her that.

Harry looked closer at the Wall – well, to be more accurate, at the small figure that was perched atop the Wall. It was hard to make out any details at this distance, but Harry saw with a jolt that the figure had a mop of flaming red hair.

A Weasley.

It didn't look like any Weasley that Harry personally knew, but that wasn't really saying much. For all Harry knew it could be Ron himself crouched up there, wand out, waiting.

**Right Riva, we're going to have a conversation.**

**Um……… why?**

**Because they're bound to have some sort of listening device and we shouldn't know they're there. We have to convince that our intentions are honourable.**

**But, Harry, they _are_ honourable.**

**Shut up and talk.**

Her eyes flicked to him momentarily, before fixing themselves back on the Wall. Opening her mouth and speaking in her best 7-year old voice, said loudly, "But you didn't tell me _this_ was here, Daddy!" She tore her eyes off the Wall to glare at him indignantly, as though she had been robbed of a great treat.

Harry stifled his laughter and looked away from the Wall. "That's because I didn't _know_ it was here, 'Bell," he sighed, looking down at her. His senses perked up and he repressed a grin. Extendable Ears had just zoomed into hearing range.

Riva was tugging on his sleeve. "But _why_ didn't you know?" she asked, the picture of demure innocence to all – except Harry who was having to endure her angry yells in his mind. **Bell? _Bell_? Why, in the Phoenixes name, am I Bell?**

"Well, I've never been to Hogwarts before, sweetheart," Harry replied. "I don't know what it's supposed to look like."

**I felt like it. 'Bell, short for Bluebell. You like?** Again Harry had to repress a laugh and looked away to stare at the Wall once more so he wouldn't catch sight of Riva's face and crack up.

"Oh." Riva paused, as though thinking, but was actually taking the pause to inform Harry that she hated him. "How're we gonna get in?"

Harry looked up at the Wall, noticing the tense posture of the Weasley up there. **Riva, I think he's going to stun us, soon. Enervate me as quietly as you can.**

**Alright,** came the sulky reply.

Harry smiled, eyes seeming to search the Wall, whilst really his attention was fixed on the guard above. "Shouldn't be too hard."

His assumptions were proved right as the figure whipped off the invisibility cloak, not even waiting for the cloak to clear his head before sending a stunner his way. Harry put on a face of complete surprise as the stunner sped towards him. As it hit him in the chest, he caught sight of Riva's horrified face, before all was dark.

Then all was light again.

Harry awoke, his body still falling to the ground. '_Bloody hell, that was quick!_' He had to concentrate really hard not to brace himself. After all, he was supposed to be unconscious. THUMP. He hit the floor, repressing with all his might not to wince. Thankfully the ground was still slightly soft from the brief rain earlier on, so it didn't hurt as much as it should have.

"DADDY!!! You KILLED **DADDY**!!!!!"

This time Harry could not suppress a small wince. Riva's voice was loud. He felt sorry for the person on the Wall. If he extended his own magical hearing, he could hear whoever it was cursing as he ripped out the Extendable Ears. Trying to block out Riva's continuing, unnaturally loud screams – which was hard, seeing as he was under a spell that amplified hearing – he heard the man on the Wall give some orders. "Neville, Grace, you grab them, whilst I call the Castle." So he wasn't alone, then. Odd. Harry had missed that. And Neville? Neville Longbottom, maybe?

Harry concentrated on the Weasley. The voice sounded familiar – not that meant anything, he knew them all so well – but distorted, hardened by what Harry was sure was years of hardness and pain. There was a whispered "Phoenix" before someone greeted the lone Weasley.

"Hey, Ron. You would never believe what Allie just did!"

Harry stiffened slightly. He had almost jokingly said that the Weasley on the Wall could be Ron, but he had never actually believed it. Ron was his best friend and yet he had not recognised him. This was just getting worse and worse.

He was so caught up in inner turmoil that he almost missed Ron's reply as he cut the women off. "Sorry, Herm, but I need you to tell whoever's awake that we've...."

"I WANT MY **_DADDY_**!"

Harry jumped at the sudden interruption, but it was unnoticed as his body floated into the air. So intent he had been on the conversation between his two best friends (for now he realised who the woman had been) that he failed to register the approach of the other two guards. Trying to relax as much as he could whilst floating unsteadily in the air, Harry tuned back to the conversation.

"...name was that?"

"That's why I need you to go get someone," was Ron's reply in the aftermath of another yell. Riva was playing her part in this perfectly. "We just caught two people trying to get into the castle."

"NOOOOO!! GET AWAY FROM ME - DAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!"

"And hurry!"

Harry was fighting the temptation to snigger. Ron was running scared from a little girl! He carried on his floating journey for a few more seconds, before being dropped in a heap on the ground. A little surprised - surely they couldn't be inside the castle yet? - Harry, despite himself, cautiously opened an eye and really did snigger. The man - Neville - who was floating him had had to go back and help Grace with Riva. Riva was kicking and screaming all over the place. Harry even saw her attempt to bite Neville's finger. She saw him looking and gave him one, brief, amused glance before fighting off the two guards again. As Harry shut his eyes, he heard Ron yell from the Wall, "Just _stun_ her, Neville, for Merlin's sake!"

No sooner had the words popped out of Ron's mouth than suddenly all was quiet. There was a shocked silence, before a voice said, "Well, come along dear," and Harry felt his body floating up into the air again.

'_Well, here it goes..._'

7 7 7

Thanks for reading.

Luv,

Hannanora-Potter

xxx


	4. Chapter Four: Welcome to Hogwarts

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**waffle** = mind speech

**Additional:** I know I've already posted this, but I realise that I've made a slight mistakes in their names – Faith456 you got it right, but one of the left over letters was wrong, so I have to change it. Oooops!

**Chapter Four: Welcome to Hogwarts**

Quite a while later, Harry felt his body being lowered onto the ground – a lot more gently than before, he might add. It was very frustrating just being floated around. If he had been walking, even with his eyes screwed shut, he would be able to tell where he was in relation to where he had started. Such details could be the matter of life and death.

Although he was alert and listening keenly, he could only hear the barest snatches of conversation. Almost as soon as they had set off for Hogwarts he had cancelled the magical enhancer charm. It was too risky – especially when going into a castle full of witches and wizards. That was not to say that he had not heard anything, however...

As far as he could tell he was being led to some sort of cell or interrogation room. He preferred to think of cell – interrogation did not bring about some pleasant images. Riva was still with him also. She had been abnormally quiet – both for Riva and for a seven year old – apart from once when someone had tried to take her somewhere else. She had started screaming and yelling again, until Ron had snapped, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, let's just take her with us!"

"I don't think that that will be proper for a little girl, Ron………" said a female voice, stiffly.

"Yeah, well I don't care," retorted Ron, half-annoyed and half-weary. "Look, if the kid wants to go with her dad so be it. I already have a big enough headache."

And that had been that. Harry, although relieved that Riva was joining him, couldn't help but be a little bit shocked when he heard Ron talk. That wasn't the Ron that he remembered. '_What in Merlin's name has happened to make him so bitter, so uncaring so.... cold?_'

'_What a stupid question_.'

"_Ennervate_."

A rush of energy hit him and Harry had to work hard not to jump with the shock. A stunner worked by sucking, essentially, a person's energy, just enough that they lost consciousness. Over time a persons body gradually builds up enough energy to re-awaken. The enervate spell was essentially a throb of energy that replaced that which had been sucked out by the stunner. Therefore, when it hit an already wide-awake Harry it was the equivalent to an extreme sugar rush.

Concentrating hard – the last thing he needed was to laugh hysterically at his 'captors' – Harry gave a slight groan and shook his head. Opening his eyes and wearing an appropriately groggy expression, he blinked up into the faces of Sirius Black and Ron Weasley. He stared at them, not even bothering to hide his shock.

They looked so...._old_. Sirius black hair had a few hints of grey in them and the haunted look was even more eminent in his eyes than before. When Harry had left it had almost been gone, Sirius had been much more ready to laugh, but now.... There were no laugh lines at all on his face. Worry lines creased his forehead and he looked ready to cry and yell all at once. A great scar marred his right cheek and another curved from his temple, down the neck and disappeared into his shirt. As though someone had tried to gut him.

Ron was almost unrecognisable. He had always been taller than Harry but now Harry reckoned he must be over six feet. And not only that, but Ron had grown into his height. He was no longer gangly, but lined with muscles. His red hair had been grown out – like Bills had been – but there was a streak of white in. Harry was sure the result was from undue stress. Harry gulped – he looked to be over thirty. If he was over thirty, heavens knew how old Sirius was. Then Harry gulped, for Ron, too, had not escaped the war unscarred. On Ron's forehead, clearly marked, was a lightning bolt scar.

Identical to Harry's.

"What are you staring at?"

Harry jumped at Sirius' growled question. His mind snapped back to the present. He needed to get his wits around him if he was to survive this encounter. "You're....you're Sirius Black!" he spluttered, hoping without hope that Sirius hadn't been cleared – how God must love these little ironies.

Sirius glared at him for a bit longer before stepping back. "That's right," he snarled, "what of it?"

"Well....aren't you a, er, murderer?" asked Harry, trying to become a little more uncertain.

"Yes," said Sirius but he was interrupted by Ron.

"Shut up, Black," he said, before turning to Harry. "Black is innocent. He was wrongly convicted."

"But what about since then, Weasley?"

Ron glared at Sirius. "You know that doesn't count," he informed Harry's godfather angrily. Harry was shocked at the tone of voice the two used; as if they hated each other. But why? "Now, are you going to get on with the interrogation or am I going to have to chuck you out and do it myself."

"Weasley, Black, just quit your childish squabbles and get on with the interrogation," sneered an unpleasantly familiar voice from behind them. It was just then that Harry noticed there were other people in the room. As one, Sirius and Ron turned around and snapped, "Shut it, Snivellus."

At least they agreed on one thing, thought Harry with an amused, if rather detached, thought. Overall, there were another ten people in the room besides Snape, Ron and Sirius. One of them was Riva, who caught his eye for a split second before Harry's gaze moved onwards. To Harry's annoyance, he could identify just one other person in the room besides Snape. The witch clutching Riva protectively was none other than Ginny Weasley – and Harry only recognised her because of her vivid Weasley hair. What was even more frustrating was that the other witches and wizards in the room looked familiar, but their identifies eluded him, hovering at a place just out of reach in his mind.

So, all in all, it wasn't too hard for Harry to look totally overwhelmed and confused at his present situation.

"So, then, what's your name?" asked Ron, conjuring up a chair with his wand for him and Sirius.

"Er.... Sam," replied Harry, resisting the temptation to shift in his seat.

"Sam?" repeated Ron, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, Sam Jotary," answered Harry.

"Jotary," repeated Sirius this time, although his tone was one more of thoughtfulness rather than disbelief. "Not a family I've heard of before."

"Well, my parents were muggles," Harry informed them helpfully.

"But then surely you should have attended Hogwarts at some point," called a witch from his 'audience'. "And, I can assure you, I've never taught a 'Jotary' in my life before."

Harry rolled his eyes. "My parents didn't want me to learn my magic – I must admit, I wasn't too keen on the idea either."

"Then how come you're here now?" asked Ron, looking at him suspiciously (nothing new there.)

"Well," Harry began, "when things started to get a little....um, shall I say chaotic? My parents decided that maybe learning magic would be a good idea after all. They got a personal tutor for me whose been training me at home. And as for why I'm here _now_....well, it's because they and my wife were murdered a few weeks ago."

His words were met with a stony silence. They didn't believe him. Harry wasn't sure he would either, but then again he couldn't exactly say "Hi, I'm actually your long lost saviour, Harry Potter. I've been living on a magic island for the last five years training and having a basically great time whilst you have all been fighting and dying in a war that you can't possibly win because I'm not there. Oh, plus, I'm ten years younger than I should be."

Harry kept his attention on Ron and Sirius, though he could see Riva tense out of the corner of his eye. This was the riskiest part of the whole plan.

Having made a silent decision, Ron turned back to Harry. "Thanks for that, _Sam_," he said, nearly spitting the last name, "but we're not going to believe anything without some sort of proof."

Harry looked worried at this. But it was only an act. For proof they would use veritaserum and that was something that he could beat. Well, technically he and Riva could beat it. It was possible for a single witch or wizard (or Phoenix child) to beat veritaserum on their own, but the pause between questions and answers would be so long that they would know something was wrong. Plus, flying solo takes a lot of magical power, which Harry needed in case this all went wrong.

"Proof?" he asked uncertainly, throat dry. "What kind of proof can I possibly give you?"

In return Sirius reached in to his pocket and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid. Harry's heart gave a leap, but he just stared at them blankly.

Snape rolled his eyes and said, in a tone of disgust, "It's veritaserum, you idiot." When Harry remained blank faced, Snape sighed and sneered at Harry. "Truth potion. It can make you tell us anything we want to."

Harry's face blanched. "Anything?" he whispered.

Sirius gave an evil smirk. "Anything."

Harry stared at him aghast for a few more seconds, before swallowing and holding his head up bravely. "Alright then." '_Damn, my acting's good!_'

"It's not like you'd have any choice," said Sirius unpleasantly, although Harry's reaction seemed to have pleased the rest of the audience. As Ron poured three drops onto Harry's tongue and watched him swallow, Harry felt a powerful presence enter his mind.

**Hey, Harry. Doing good so far.**

**Riva.** Harry acknowledged before he was lost under the effects of the potion. It was a weird sensation. He could still feel the chair under him, the ropes binding his hands, but it was though he was an observer. Then suddenly he was back in control as Riva took on the potion.

Veritaserum was a strange little potion. It forced a persons active mind to lay dormant – or at least suppressed – whilst the subconscious mind was forced to the surface. The subconscious mind was unable to have active thought – therefore, whenever asked a question it always responded and responded with the truth. By letting Riva enter his mind, she would attract the attention of the potion. In other words, Riva was now under the influence of the Veritaserum potion instead of Harry. Leaving Harry free to lie as much as he wanted.

"What's your name?" asked Sirius, a pill scratching questions and answers on a piece of parchment in mid-air. As Harry replied, he tried to keep his eyes as unfocused as possible.

"Sam Peter Hiram Jotary," replied Harry, with no emotion in his voice. He hoped no one would pick up on this little word game of his. But, mind you, he hoped someone would – it was genius after all!

Sirius's eyebrows went up at this. "Long name," he said.

"Yes."

Sirius jumped – he hadn't meant that to be a question. Harry tried not to snigger.

"Who were your parents?" asked Ron, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

"Adam Matthew Edward Stuart Jotary and Ilana Louise Yasmina Jotary, maiden name Lakes," said Harry, relieved when he recited both the names without a pause or slip-up. All those long hours practising with Riva had paid off. It was rather a risky game they were playing, but, as he had pointed out when Riva had protested, how could they possibly link the dead Harry Potter and young Sam Jotary? He carried on, moving to describe his parents' occupations and dates of births. Why shouldn't he have a little fun? "My father was born on the first of May and grew up in Salisbury where he was the eldest of – "

"Alright, alright!" Sirius cut him off hurriedly. "Enough of that, when did you first find out you were a wizard?"

"On the 3rd of August, morning, roughly between 9 and 10 am," Harry responded, hurriedly trying to recall the cover story that he and Riva had worked out. "I was sitting at the kitchen table when the post arrived and I went to get it for my parents. I didn't really get any letters so I just gave them all to my parents. But then my dad told me that I had one! I was surprised and slightly curious. None of my friends were on holiday and why write a letter when they could phone?" Harry had really been expected to be cut off long before this point, but they seemed to be interested. This was bad news. Not only did it mean that Harry had to make up a whole story, but he could see Riva was getting paler and paler and was beginning to sweat slightly. Creating a magical bond with someone was strenuous enough, without having to contain a very strong potion as well. And if Riva fainted, Harry was back to square one.

"My mum and dad were really interested, too, because there was a weird wax seal on the back and, not only was it addressed to me, but it also named me as living in the second smallest bedroom – which is where I slept! Anyway, I opened the letter and, inside, was a letter that told me I had been accepted into the Salem Institute for the – "

"Hold on a minute," cried Ron, loudly, jumping to his feet. The 'audience' were whispering amongst themselves. "The _Salem Institute_?"

"Yes," was all Harry said, glad to have gotten them onto another subject.

"But why was the letter from the Salem Institute?" asked Ginny, too engrossed in the conversation to notice that her charge was starting to sweat slightly.

"I do not know."

Needless to say, there was a lot of confused talking. Ron and Sirius seemed to be having another argument in hurried whispers, whilst Ginny was talking animatedly to another wizard. No one seemed to know why Harry had received a letter from an American school instead of Hogwarts.

"Wait!" said a witch suddenly. It was the same one who had spoken earlier. "The ministry get the names of magically able children when they are born, because when they are born they give off a strong burst of magic, although undetectable to anyone or thing but the special sensors at the Ministry. Other than the first magical burst – which has a unique magical signature – the magic in a person isn't registered. Otherwise, every foreign wizard entering the country would have their names put down when they do a spell."

"OK....," said Ron slowly. "Now, in English."

"What she means, Weasley," said Snape, comprehension dawning on his face, "is that only magical children born in England get registered by the English ministry of magic – only born English children get sent to Hogwarts."

Sirius turned back to Harry with and barked, "Who were your parents?"

Harry grinned inside as he repeated, in a toneless voice, exactly what he had said earlier. "Adam Matthew Edward Stuart Jotary and Ilana Louise Yasmina Jotary, maiden name Lakes. My father was born on the first of May and grew up in Salisbury where he was the eldest of - "Ron cut him off at exactly the same point as before. "Yes, we know that!" he snapped irritably. "What about your mother?""My mother was born Ilana Louise Yasmina Lakes on the twenty-third of October. She married Adam Matthew Edward Stuart Jotary on - ""Just answer the bloody question!" Sirius yelled, furious."My mother was born Ilana Louise - ""For Merlin's sake, you two!" snapped Ginny, glaring at her brother and Sirius. "Sam, was your mother born in America?""Yes, on the twenty-third of October in the state of Florida.""Where were you born?" persisted Ginny."America, the state of Florida, on February the - ""Enough!" snapped Ron, turning to Sirius and the rest of the witches and wizards. Harry was trying not to laugh. Although he was in what one would call a dangerous situation, Harry just couldn't comprehend the reality of it. They were, after all, his friends.A small part of Harry dimly registered that he was still in slight shock.But he didn't really have time to care about that right now."Well, that explains why we've never heard of him before," Ron was saying, running his hand through his hair wearily. "He did say at the Wall that he'd never been to Hogwarts before. I didn't think too much of it at the time.""I still think it's too convenient," Sirius snapped, fists clenched as he glared back at Harry, who stared off into space. "I don't trust him.""Don't think we do, Black," sneered Snape, "but you know that nothing can beat veritaserum. He's telling the complete truth.""I still want to check the American records," retorted Sirius."Wouldn't we all," sighed a tousled haired wizard wearily.They all sighed wearily. Harry was confused. What were they talking about? Surely England wasn't at war with America was it?"Come on, Sirius," said Ron softly, awkwardly placing a comforting hand on the elder man's shoulders. Sirius tensed for a while and then shook off Ron's hand. "Don't touch me again, _Weasley_," he snarled and turned abruptly back to Harry.Harry caught sight of Ron's face as he exchanged glances with Ginny. It was filled with sadness and pity. He sighed and walked back over to Harry."Are you a Death Eater?" he snapped."No.""Do you work in any way or form for Lord Voldermort - oh shut up!" he yelled, as several people flinched and gasped at the name.Harry decided to misinterpret that as a command for him."He's not saying anything," said Ron, astonished. "He should be saying _something_!""Aha!" cried Sirius triumphantly. "He's been lying to us all!""Black, he's under the strongest truth potion there is!" protested a witch."Then why isn't he saying something?" asked Sirius, triumphantly. "Maybe it's a dud.""How _dare_ you suggest one of my potions is working incorrectly!" yelled Snape, jumping to his feet. "He isn't saying anything, because you just told him to shut up, Black, you moronic idiot!" Snape turned to Harry, exasperated. "Look, Mr Jotary, Do you work in any way or form for Lord Voldermort?""No.""Ok, so he doesn't work for Voldermort," said Ron, thinking carefully. "But there are so many others out there..."Riva was beginning to shake slightly with the pressure. Luckily, Ginny's attention was solely on Harry and the two interrogators. This spell worked best with a large number of people to share the burden. Riva was only one and whilst her powers were some of the greatest amongst the Phoenix Children she was still trapped by the limitations of her seven year old body."Why have you come to Hogwarts only now?""We knew of the increasing danger in the magical world and - ""Wait. How did you know?"'_Oops!_' This was something they hadn't covered before. "Although my father did not like me going so far away to school, he did not want to loose track of an entirely separate culture, so he did a bit of rooting and managed to get a copy of the Daily Prophet sent to us every day.""Why should he care about our culture?" asked Ron, sharply."He's an archaeologist, specializing in past cultures and societies," lied Harry, thinking rapidly. It was lucky they hadn't asked him before what his father was because he would have said a dentist! "They fascinate him.""Ok," said Ron, conjuring a new piece of parchment for the Quill, which was buzzing irritably. "So, why have you come to Hogwarts only now?""We knew of the increasing danger in the magical world and decided to go into hiding. Kiera - ""Who?"Harry resisted the urge to grind his teeth. If only they'd stop interrupting him!"Kiera Anna Soulson was my home instructor and then I married her eight years ago. She was killed four weeks and two and a half days ago."Most of the witches and wizards looked rather saddened by this fact, but not as much as Harry would have expected. Ron barely flinched and Sirius merely nodded his head. Harry himself felt nothing. He didn't have a wife after all."Continue with the previous question, please," instructed Ron, lying his head on his folded arms."Kiera tried to persuade us to go back to America or at least to go to Hogwarts for safety," continued Harry, voice monotonous even as his heart was racing and mind furiously trying to remember all the details Riva had drilled into his head. "But my parents liked England - although I was born in America, I couldn't remember any of it. Plus, it was getting harder and harder to get passports, what with all the killings. America was keen to keep people out and flights were getting more and more expensive.""Why not Hogwarts then?" asked Ginny, intrigued. Riva next to her was now white as a sheet and visibly trembling. Her eyes were screwed shut against the pain."My parents were muggles and uncomfortable with the thought of being surrounded by witches and wizards," Harry explained, trying to keep his explanations as short as possible. "Especially after Keira explained about the prejudices and hatred between the pure bloods and muggleborns. Plus, although Hogwarts was said to be the safest place to be, it was also sure to be a target.So, we went into hiding. That was about 5 or 6 years ago now. Keira home tutored Bluebell - ""That would be the girl, right?" asked Ron, shooting a glance at Riva. Luckily, Riva half-heard the conversation and choose that moment to open her eyes. No one seemed to notice anything wrong with her."Yes.""But, surely you're not old enough to be her father!" protested the witch from before."Yes I am - I'm twenty eight years old, I married Keira 8 years ago and Bluebell is seven." A slight lie about his age there, but hey, the whole story was a huge lie! "Keira was home tutored in both muggle and wizarding ways and it was an okay life for us all. We didn't receive the Prophet anymore fearing they could track us through it. We'd had no word from the magical world for six whole years.Then the death eaters came. I don't think they realised that we were wizards - just came for a spot of old fashioned muggle torture. Keira fought back, but they killed her. They killed her, my mother and my father.""How come you weren't killed, too?" asked Sirius, glancing up at Harry sharply."I was out with Bluebell. A life inside a house is not a proper life for a girl. Once a month we try to take her out walking. Keira wasn't feeling well, so it was just me and her. When we got back, the dark mark was burning in the sky over a burnt out shell that had been our home.""What did you do after that?" asked Ron, although his harsh tone had softened slightly."I was distraught," replied Harry. "I refused to believe that they were all dead. I stayed nearby for almost a week, hoping that somehow they'd survived. But they never came. We didn't have much food. 'Bell was getting ill. I decided we had to move and the only place left was Hogwarts. I was unsure of everything that was going on in the magical world so we travelled from foot. I had never been here before, but somehow I knew where I was going. Keira had spoken of it often, having once visited it for some reason or other.It's been just over three weeks, but we finally got here."Harry stopped. He hoped the questioning wouldn't go on much longer - Riva could pass out any second.Sirius and Ron drew to one side and had a rapid, yet almost silent discussion. His 'audience' were watching him again, yet now it was more with pity and sympathy than with suspicion."Alright, give him the antidote, Snape," commanded Ron, cutting Harry's bonds loose.Snape grumbled but obeyed, pulling another vial clear of his coat. This one had a deep purple liquid and seemed to glow slightly. As he walked towards Harry, Harry called to Riva, who was starting to sway slightly.**It's over, Riva. You can leave. And thanks**.Suddenly Harry was being drowned again. Like an echo, far away, he heard Riva's reply; **Hey, no problem**. Her voice didn't sound very strong.He vaguely felt someone forcing his jaw open and felt some hot liquid trickle down his throat. At once his senses swayed and became distorted. His head was pounding, every muscle in his body ached and then he was back.He gave his a head a shake. "Whoa!" he muttered rubbing his head. "What in Merlin's name _was_ that?"A hand appeared in front of his face. Blinking, Harry grasped it and was heaved upright. Somewhere along the line he had fallen on the floor again. "It was the antidote to the veritaserum potion," Ron explained, giving him a smile, even if it didn't fully reach his eyes.Harry stared at him. "I didn't know that there was one!" he cried, before remembering that earlier on he didn't know what veritaserum _was_.Ron shot him a suspicious glance. "You said you didn't know what veritaserum was," he pointed out, hand shifting towards his wand.Harry grimaced and rubbed his head. "Actually, I do," he corrected, looking Ron in the eye. "I read it somewhere, but I'd forgotten about it until - did you call him Snivellus? - there told me about it.""Oh, ok," said Ron, though his eyes remained suspicious.Avoiding his best friend's gaze, Harry looked around the room. "Bluebell!" he cried and rushed forward, sweeping her up into his arms. She blinked a weary eye at him and gave a faint smile. "Hi, daddy." Then she fell fast asleep, tiny head resting on Harry's shoulder, little fists curled around his cloak."Mr Jotary."Harry turned, careful not to rouse Riva from her rest - she deserved it. Ginny was smiling at him, though Sirius still had a tendency to glare. Ron beckoned with his arm."Come on, we're supposed to take you to see the Headmaster."Harry nodded stiffly and followed the two Weasleys, Sirius bringing up the rear. As they passed through various corridors Harry's mind was back to the Headmaster. Who would it be now? McGonagall, maybe. She had been deputy Headmistress before, after all. Or someone else? But, try as he might, Harry could not imagine anyone other than Albus Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.Sooner than he thought possible, they were standing outside the gargoyle. Ginny shot him a small smile, before saying clearly, "Cherry Bombers."The Gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the moving staircase. Harry looked at it with fake fascination. 'Cherry Bombers'. They sounded like some kind of sweet. A weird sweet - something like a Fred and George invention - but a sweet nonetheless. He gave a faint snort of amusement, which made Sirius glare at him even more. '_It seems someone,_' he thought sadly, '_is keeping the old Headmaster's traditions alive._'They reached the top of the staircase and Ron knocked harshly on the door. There was a brief pause, before a faint "enter, enter" reached their ears. Ron and Ginny opened the door, walked in and framed the doorway, as though Harry was some kind of important Lord. Harry's eyes, however, were fixed on the man sitting in the Headmasters chair.

It couldn't be………

"_Dumbledore_?"

7 7 7

Da da daaa!!!

I know this was a very long chapter and that not much happens in it, but let me explain. I needed to make it plausible that Harry can just come and go live in the castle, the heart of the magical defense, in the height of the worst – not to mention most hopeless war – ever.

My theory on veritaserum and the conscious/subconscious minds are just what I thought up. I admit to not knowing much about psychology or how the mind works so there you are. And my theory about the birth thingy is solely based on one line from the Philosophers Stone; "His name's been down ever since he was born." In all truth and fairness this is probably completely wrong, but oh well………

Oh and see if you can spot what I mean with word games. : o )

**Review Responses:**

**Sarah R Potter** – thanks for reviewing again and I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the next part.

**Fiddy** – Um...again, very sorry at the lack of updating Hannanora-Potter looks sheepish

**xpink-cherryx** – yeah, it was kinda sad – but look! Here he is again!

**Virusgod** – thank you very much

**Faith456** – sorry it took so long to update. Hope you enjoyed it.

**maguswizard** – thanks and there you go

**wanderingwolf** – why thank you very much!

**pingpong5** – I do believe I may have waffled slightly in this one, but thank you very much for your review!

**Prd2bAmerican18** – Thank you very much

**HongMing** – thanks for the review – was Hogwarts what you were expecting?

**Siri Kat** – well, no, England doesn't actually smell! Lol! But they appeared in a field – like a farmers field – and they do tend to smell a bit! : o ) He's kind of met Ron, but not really – but the next chappie's gonna be a little different.

Thanks to you all. You can review if you want, but you don't have to! Ta ra!

Luv,

Hannanora-Potter

xxx


	5. Chapter Five: The Children Of The Phoen...

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**waffle** = mind speech

**Chapter 5: The Children Of The Phoenix:**

"I'm sorry, the _what_?" asked Harry, completely confused.

The girl – Riva – rolled her eyes at him. "The. Children. Of. The. Phoenix," she repeated, saying each word slowly, as though if she spoke the words slow enough understanding would suddenly pop into Harry's brain.

Harry just stared.

"Fine. _You_ tell him, Grandfather!" she snapped, flicking her black braids over her shoulder and sitting down suddenly. There followed a tremendous amount of squawking as the phoenixes clamoured to get out of her way. They all trilled at her angrily. She ignored them.

Maali groaned slightly, wearily rubbing his brow as he regarded his granddaughter. He then tilted his head and peered at Harry as he, too, sat down (albeit, a lot more carefully and gracefully than the teen). The inquisitive, green eyes and tilted head reminded him so much of the phoenixes that Harry suddenly had to hold back a jet of laughter. It was at this point that he wondered if he was slightly hysterical – or dreaming. He was already hearing things. ''_Children of the Phoenix'? That's just impossible. They can't be – they're human!_'

"You know what phoenixes are, right?"

The sudden question caught Harry off guard, "Er, yeah," he said. When Mali simply continued to stare at him, Harry gathered he was meant to continue. "They Phoenix is a magnificent, swan-sized scarlet bird with a long golden tail, beak and talons. It nests on mountain peaks and is found in Egypt, India and China. The Phoenix lives to an immense age as it can regenerate, bursting into flames when it's body begins to fail and rising again from the ashes as a chick. The Phoenix is a gentle creature that has never been known to kill and eats only herbs. It can disappear and reappear at will. The Phoenix song is magical: it is reputed to increase the courage of the pure of heart and to strike fear into the hearts of the impure. Phoenix tears have powerful healing properties," he recited, word perfect. He had learnt the definition off by heart ages ago – well, technically, Hermione had, but she had told them so often that both he and Ron knew "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" ( as well as "Hogwarts a History") off by heart, without having read either. This was a fact that quite disgusted Ron, but he would never tell Hermione that!

At the thought of his friends, Harry's memory came rushing back, the sight of Death Eater's surrounding them, the ruin all around and Dumbledore, Dumbledore lifeless under a piece of rubble, hand still holding a piece of birthday cake.

"My friends!" Harry cried, jumping to his feet, disrupting more multi-coloured phoenixes. "Dumbledore! I have to help them!" He looked around desperately, as though a portal back to the Burrow would magically appear for him.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and twisted, to see Maali restraining his frenzied movements. "Don't worry, they're fine," he told Harry, a gentle smile in place. Harry snorted and renewed his struggle. A soft trill and a flurry of notes stopped him. One phoenix, a blue, white and silver beauty, was at his feet, staring remorsefully up at him. It chirped again and cocked it's head at Harry. The few chirps dissolved into a beautiful melody.

Harry couldn't move.

The song was familiar, but at the same time completely different. Harry knew Fawkes' song almost off by heart – it filled him with warmth, comfort and the fire he needed to continue. This song offered comfort – but it was cold, very cold. It made him think of snow and ice, blanketing the ground in glistening white. Of icicles and long snowball fights. Rather than feeding his anger, this song calmed him, made him think clearly. It cooled him down.

"Like I said," repeated Maali, eyes twinkling. "They're fine." And he pushed Harry back down onto the floor.

"How can they be fine?" spat Harry, making to stand up again, but a note from the small phoenix made him stop still. It chirped merrily and fluttered into his lap where it stared up at him with astonishingly silver eyes.

"You're wrong."

"I'm sorry?" asked Harry, taken aback. He looked up. Maali was entirely serious, staring at him.

"You're definition of a Phoenix – it's wrong," he explained.

Harry frowned. "How."

"Because that isn't a real phoenix."

Harry was even more confused by now and was about to open his mouth to spout out some sarcastic comment when Maali raised a hand. "No, don't speak," he said, settling seamlessly into a seating position that made Harry jealous. "Let me explain."

And explain he did.

7 7 7

"A very long time ago – thousands of years before the pyramids of Egypt were built – there was a civilisation of humans. They were mainly witches and wizards, with the odd squib here and there. You may have heard of Atlantis. That was just one of the many cities that flourished and thrived.

In these cities, humans and phoenixes lived along side each other. There were many types of phoenixes – not just the one that you think there is. They were mainly attributed to the elements – Fire, Water, Earth and Wind, but there were a few....ah, exceptions. That phoenix you hold in your lap is Ice and there are also phoenixes of Metals and, the rarest of them all, Magic phoenixes. Those phoenixes were connected to the very essence of magic and could see magic in everything around them.

These phoenixes bonded with man and helped him to understand the world around him. It is long believed that the Phoenixes were actually the cause of the development of man's magic. Often a phoenix would bond with a human and they would stay together until death parted them. Phoenixes are, of course, more or less immortal and could remain alive after their bonded's death, but often the pain of loosing such a dear companion often caused them to choose to depart from this world and enter the next life with their bonded.

Bonding with a phoenix gives humans extra powers. For example, bonding with a Fire Phoenix will give you a small elemental power over Fire. How strong that ability is depends on both the human's magical level and the phoenix. Some times more than one phoenix bonded with a human partner, giving them multiple elemental talents. However, this was rare.

But man, as I'm sure you know, is power greedy. They didn't want partial control over just one, possibly two elements – they wanted total control over all of them. The problem was, men only ever bonded with at most two phoenixes – they weren't enough for everyone to be bonded to all of them. So, they improvised.

I know it is hard to believe, but technologically speaking, man was even more technologically advanced thousands of years ago than he is today. With the aid of crossing both magic and science, some powerful men came up with a cruel experiment that would change the way power ran in their world for ever.

They managed to capture a phoenix of every sort. How I don't know and do not particularly want to know for Phoenixes are smart creatures and incredibly hard to capture. Maybe they were so trusting with humans at that time that they simply went with them....I don't know. But I do know what they did with them.

They found a way to combine the magical power and energies of all seven phoenixes into one bird. This bird had power over water, wind, fire, earth, ice, metal and magic, an opportunity for great power. But it came at a price – all the phoenixes they used to create their 'super-phoenix' died.

At once, man turned on what had been his greatest ally to date in preference of more power. They wanted the super-phoenix and only a few opposed the killing of their precious bonded ones. How long it took them to realise there was a flaw, I don't know, but one night the phoenixes left Earth for this Island, which the Earth and Water Phoenixes rose out of the sea. With them came the few faithful ones who had protested the betrayal and slaughter.

You might have been thinking why did the phoenixes not take revenge? The answer is simple: they still loved the humans. They had spent hundreds of years with them and their betrayal had hurt them deeply, yes. But they cared too much to destroy humanity altogether. Instead, they worked their magic over the land, sinking some islands – like Atlantis – raising a few more, wiping nearly all evidence of their existence behind. Man's memory was changed, the cities vanished and Earth was, again, as it was when man first evolved.

They wanted to give man a second chance, to see if they turned out better a second time round. A few wished to stay and start afresh but they decided to watch from a distance with us – and a good thing, too, for all they have seen from man is war upon endless war.

I – and my people – are descendants of those faithful few from those thousands of years ago. We have remained on this Island, still practising the bondage ceremonies with our Phoenixes and watching over mankind till one of our own cries for our help."

7 7 7

Harry had sat silently throughout the tale, mouth slightly ajar at the incredibility of the situation. He was burning with questions, head swimming – no, drowning – in information. This was....well, unbelievable, yet at the same time, entirely so. Maali had spoken it all with such serious eyes that Harry couldn't help but start to believe them.

"So, the Phoenixes we have now, on Earth," he began, speaking aloud just one of the many questions that were bombarding his mind, "they're descendants of the Super Phoenix?"

Maali nodded, eyes on Harry. Riva was also watching Harry very carefully.

"But they don't have power over anything like that," he protested, thinking over his definition of a Phoenix. "They don't have any elemental control that I can think of – or that we've seen."

"That's because they don't have it any more," said Maali, absentmindedly stroking a rather plain looking phoenix with his large tanned hands. "You may recall I mentioned a flaw. Well, this is it."

"I don't understand," said Harry, very confused.

"It's like this." Riva spoke up for the first time since the end of the history lesson. "Really those idiots should have known better, but hey. All of the elements are greatly opposed to one another. Take Fire. Fire can be distinguished with water and earth, and can, to some extent, be blown out by wind. But it can also melt ice and metal, evaporate water, disfigure earth and pollute air. You put all these things together in close proximity and of course they're gonna cancel each other out."

Maali nodded. "She's right," he agreed, ignoring or missing the glare Riva sent him for being so surprised. "At first all the elements held strong, but after time they began to wear each other out. Those Phoenixes today only hold very few characteristics of the original seven."

"Like what?" Harry asked, intrigued. This was very interesting.

"Well, Fire is often said to be the most dominant element and whilst untrue, it was the element that dominated the most in the Super Phoenixes," began Maali, looking thoughtful. "I suspect that it was fuelled by the magical element, however. If you look at the actual physical colouring of the Phoenix it often indicates it's element." He motioned with his hand to the Phoenixes that were still seated all around them. "As I've already said, that Phoenix in your lap is an Ice Phoenix. Although quite similar to the Water Phoenixes, they tend to be more white than the blue of Water, with silver highlights, which is not prominent in Water. Look!" And he motioned to another Phoenix watching them with liquid blue eyes. It gave a small trill and fluffed it's feathers as it sensed their admiring glances. And they were admiring. At first glance, the Phoenix looked a solid blue. But, if you turned your head to the side, it became almost transparent – just like water. And when you looked carefully, you could see that it wasn't one solid colour. It was a myriad of blues and greens. It was quite breathtaking.

It took Harry a while to figure out what exactly felt wrong about the Phoenix. He could tell it was one, but....it looked, well, odd. Then he got it. It's beak was not sharp and curved, but shaped rather like a swans – except that a swans beak is _not_ silver. And it's feet were different, too. They were webbed.

"It's a water bird?" Harry asked and then felt like hitting himself as both Riva and Maali laughed. '_Well, _that_ wasn't an idiotic thing to say._'

However, Maali had understood what Harry meant. "Yes," he confirmed, grinning at Harry. "It looks kind of wrong, doesn't it? But, nonetheless, she is a Phoenix. She can fly, but it takes much more effort than swimming."

Harry left out the question of how Maali could tell what sex it was, instead asking, "What can it do?"

Riva grinned at Harry. "It's tears have powerful healing properties," she began, before being interrupted by a wide-eyed Harry.

"Oh, so _that's_ where my Phoenixes get it from!" he exclaimed, before he was also cut off.

"Look, do you want to know or not?" snapped Riva, annoyed. When Harry just shot her a sheepish grin, she rolled her eyes and continued. "They can heal any infliction caused by water – basically burns from boiling water to boiling acid and any poisoned drink – as long as it hasn't been left too long. They can make it rain, raise lakes, ponds and so on. They can cause dehydration, too, but that isn't something they ever do, because it can cause death. Oh, and their song is soothing and tranquil to those in need and suppressing to those who bully and torment others." She shrugged. "Otherwise, I think that's about it."

'_That's about it?_' repeated Harry incredulously. _That's – wow!_'

"And what about Fire Phoenixes?" asked Harry excited.

Maali smiled. "Fire Phoenixes have very much the same colouring as your Phoenixes today, except the tails, beak ant talons tend to be just yellowy/orange not gold. And they have more blue and purple in them, too." Motioning vaguely at the group of red phoenixes Harry had noticed earlier, he continued. "Whilst all Phoenixes have the ability to regenerate, the Fire Phoenixes are the only ones that do it through Fire. Water Phoenixes dissolve into water, Earth into dust, Ice Phoenixes also melt into water, Metal into molten metal and Air...well, Air just seems to disappear in a strong gust of wind and is reborn again."

"And the Magic ones?" asked Harry, eagerly.

Maali gave a smile. "As the Magic Phoenixes are more or less made up of pure magic they don't need to regenerate," he told the excited 17 year old. "Anyway, as I was saying, Fire Phoenixes have the ability of flight and their song emits warmth and gives courage to those who are worthy. Like the Water Phoenixes, they have the ability to heal any wound caused by fire and have control over any fire, be it big or small, but the ability to control larger fires tends to depend on the strength of the Phoenix. Generally speaking, most large fires tend to call for multiple Phoenixes. It can also find the impure – in other words, spies and traitors if allied with a particular cause."

"So, that's where the Super Phoenix gets it's colouring, it's song and the ability to be reborn," said Harry thoughtfully, almost squashing the small Ice Phoenix still sitting in his lap when he tried to draw his knees up to his chest. It gave an angry squawk and gave a loud tinkling trill. Suddenly, Harry found he was extremely cold and his glasses were frosting up. Trying to stop his teeth chattering and glaring at the Phoenix – or at least, where he thought the Phoenix was – he asked sarcastically, "And, I don't suppose the Ice Phoenix has control over ice, by any chance?"

He heard a few laughs, another trill (which sounded suspiciously like a quack) and then all the ice melted and Harry was left – still cold – but now drenched in water. Glaring pointedly down at the Phoenix sitting in his lap, he saw the bird glaring – a sight that was very odd – at the Water Phoenix he had been admiring earlier. It gave another, friendly trill-quack before turning to more important matters – grooming. Harry could have sworn she and given him a shrug.

"Yes, the Ice Phoenix controls ice," concurred Riva, still grinning. "As well as curing things like frostbite, it's song is similar to that of the Water phoenix. However, it acts more as a coolant towards tempers and hot headedness." Here she gave Harry a sly grin. "As we just saw now."

"Hey!" Harry pretended to look hurt, but gave it away by grinning a split second later. "Where does the boundary lie between Water and Ice?"

Maali looked thoughtful. "You know, we're not too sure," he confessed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Whereas both can manipulate the others 'element' – as you just saw, Water can melt ice and vice versa, neither can create the other. Ice cannot create water and Water cannot create ice. And Ice cannot melt ice and Water cannot freeze water."

"What's the difference?" Harry asked, perplexed. It seemed like the same thing to him.

"Well, as you saw just then, Ice created ice out of thin air," said Riva, in such a tone that made Harry feel very stupid. She rolled her eyes at him. "But the Water Phoenix had to melt it to give water. The Ice Phoenixes cannot melt ice to give water – they can freeze it, but cannot create it in any way or form, even when it comes to melting their own element. It's the same for the Water Phoenix. It can create water out of thin air and melt ice to give water, but it can never freeze water to give ice or create ice out of thin air. Got it?"

"Erm, yeah," said Harry uncertainly, as his brain tried to work out what Riva had said. It seemed a little confusing and he decided he would try to figure it out later. "What about Air and Earth?"

Maali stroked the small, dust coloured Phoenix in is lap. "This Phoenix is an Earth one," he said, smiling at the bird as it trilled at him happily. "As you can see, they tend to be – believe it or not! – Earth coloured. Browns and subtle greens, though some can have green in them. Their song tends to give patience and vitality of new life – energy. The Earth Phoenix has the ability to manipulate Earth. That means not only raising and sinking land, opening/closing ravines, controlling/making earth quakes but also controlling things like trees, flowers and so on – any form of plant life."

Harry's eyes widened and he stared at the unremarkable looking bird in sudden awe and respect. It looked so plain and ordinary, next to all the other colourful Phoenixes around it, but it was anything but. '_Power over all the land......... wow!_'

Maali caught Harry looking and laughed. "Don't get any wild ideas, Harry," he said, hand still stroking the small Phoenix. "Yes, they do have power over the Earth, but to do anything big, several of them need to work in conjunction with one another, much like the Fire Phoenixes. Controlling an Earthquake or raising the land takes a lot of power. And, as it is bound to Earth, it cannot fly – it has to run, walk or burrow everywhere."

Dazed, harry nodded slightly. It was all a little too much to take in, really. "And Air?" he asked, looking around for a Phoenix that fitted his idea of wind. There was a rush of feathers, a slight breeze and Harry felt something sitting on his head. The problem was, he couldn't see _what_.

Riva giggled, looking at some point above his head, although her eyes were strangely out of focus. "_That_, Harry," she said, pointing to the area above his head, "is an Air Phoenix."

There was some more flapping, before the bird plopped itself into Harry's lap, squawking at the Ice Phoenix to go away. It did so (sulkily). Harry stared at the bird – well, he tried to, but it was immensely hard to do. The Phoenix was almost completely transparent. '_Well, of course_,' Harry chided himself as he stared, '_It's not like you can see wind or air, is it?_'

When Harry looked closely at the Phoenix he could see a slight blurring of air where the body was. The only clear parts of the Phoenix were it's eyes – solid, clear, twinkling blue eyes – ones that reminded Harry of Dumbledore....'_no, don't think about that – not yet._'

What was perhaps more disconcerting about the Phoenix was the fact that small, white wisps continually raced across it, surrounding it in almost a shroud of what Harry realised was cloud. He grinned suddenly at the ingeniousness of it all. The only way people could tell there was a wind was by the moving of clouds! Well, that and loosing your hat, but hey.

"Air Phoenixes always tend to be the most hyperactive of them all," Maali said, smiling at Harry. ("Are you bonded with one then?" Harry asked Riva. Riva scowled and hit him over the head.) "They're song is said to give the hearer fleet of foot – in other words, to make the fast. They have complete control over wind and anything that flies – not just birds, but objects such as broomsticks and even the muggle contraptions – what do you call them? Pans?"

"Planes," Harry corrected, smiling slightly.

Maali nodded. "Right," he continued, looking very solemn although his eyes twinkled. "They can suffocate people – though I don't believe they've ever actually done that – and they can detect poisons/harmful chemicals in the air and clear the air. So, if one is suffering from an excess of Carbon Monoxide, say, the Air Phoenix will clear it."

Harry stared at him. "How do you know about things like that?" he asked, eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion. "I thought only muggles knew things like that."

Maali smiled at him. "You forget," he told Harry, rearranging his feet to make him more comfortable (Harry noticed sourly that the Earth Phoenix didn't protest at all. It appeared to be a lot more docile than the Ice Phoenix. _Typical_, Harry thought, still soaked through.) "that we came from a period of great technology. We were scientists and magic users back then. Of course, we don't place so much emphasis on science now as we used to, but we all know the basics."

"Oh." Harry still felt a trifle bit suspicious, but let it pass. "And what are the other two again?" he asked, eager to learn more about the Phoenixes. Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he was so eager to know more about the Phoenixes. Maybe he'd always felt a special bond with them, seeing how he had a phoenix tail feather in his wand and how Fawkes had saved his life in the Chamber of Secrets. Then there was the Order of the Phoenix, to which his parents, Dumbledore, Sirius.... His thoughts trailed off as he thought about the Order and his friends. Were they really going to be alright. A hollow feeling was rising out of his stomach, filled with uneasiness and pain. He realised that Maali was talking again and redirected all his energy into listening. He would think about his friends later.

"....Phoenixes as well," he was saying, looking at Harry with a grin in his eyes. "Metal Phoenixes have control over metal and can manipulate the shape of any metal. So, for example, if we took a muggle skyscraper, a metal Phoenix could easily destroy that building by twisting it out of shape. It's song is said to give a person strength – like the Fire Phoenix – but also fluidity of movement. And the ability to hold secrets."

Harry thought sourly that that would have been something Wormtail could have used, before asking, "What does a Metal Phoenix look like?"

Maali pointed and Harry saw a group of Phoenixes clustered together. They were all different shades of grey. From near black to bright silver, they were playing with a small strip of metal, making it hover in the air and each was taking turns to manipulate it into different shapes. Harry watched, fascinated. First one Phoenix made the metal form a very small figure of a bird, looking eerily like a miniature version of itself. Then another Phoenix gave a sharp trill and the bird melted back into a blob, before stretching out into a figure of a human. A human with impossibly messy hair.

"Hey, that's me!" cried Harry in fascination.

One of the Phoenixes jumped – apparently it did not know it was being watched. It gave a guilty sort of hooting noise and the figure thinned out and elongated into a pair of glasses frames. With a shock of recognition, Harry noticed that beneath the floating glasses were two flat glass lenses.

"Hey, my glasses!" he cried, hand automatically reaching to his nose. But the glasses weren't there. "Give that back, you!" he started angrily, before breaking off in astonishment. "But....how come I can still see?"

Maali smiled. "That would be the result of the Magic Phoenixes," he said, getting carefully to his feet. Riva got to her feet also. "Come along, Harry."

Legs protesting – the sandy beach was quite comfortable – Harry also got to his feet. He was quite sure to note exactly where both the Air and the Ice Phoenixes were. He didn't want to freeze to death again. "But where are we going?" he asked, automatically flinching as the Air Phoenix took off to sit on his head again. Luckily, it wasn't very heavy – come on, it was made of air! – but its' talons were a little sharp. "You haven't told me about the Magic Phoenixes, yet. Where are they?" And he looked around, ignoring the squawk from the Air Phoenix as it swayed unceremoniously in the air.

"Magic Phoenixes are very rare," said Riva, stifling laughter at what was probably a ludicrous sight. "They're aren't any here."

"So where are we going?" asked Harry.

This time it was Maali who answered. "To see The Council."

7 7 7

As soon as they had left the beach, Harry was met with a tropical forest, full of exotic plants with bizarre foliage which literally stretched out to touch his head and arms as he passed them. Some even tried to curl around his legs, making him trip and stumble until Maali commanded, "Stop that at once!" Immediately the plants leapt back into place, as though they had been electrocuted. They stopped reaching out for him, but they still twisted as though trying to get a good look at him. Harry shivered and quickened his pace. He did _not_ like these plants.

Riva noticed his sudden increase in urgency and shot him a grin. Harry thanked Merlin that she had enough tact not to say anything or else he though he would die of embarrassment. He didn't think that Riva would understand the plants simply did not do that in England – well, apart from the Devils' Snare and Venomous Tentactula, but they were special cases.

Fortunately for Harry, the silent trek through the tropical jungle did not last very long and they soon emerged into the baking sunlight and the most spectacular place Harry had ever seen. It was a village square – or, at least, that was the closest approximation Harry could find for it. There was a courtyard, tiled with the most vibrant colours he had ever seemed, that twisted, turned and spiralled in a mysterious pattern. There were small channels through which ran the purest water Harry had ever seen, that converged in a great ring in the centre which framed the most awe inspiring statue Harry had ever seen – not that he had seen many statues, but still. It was about eight feet tall, head erect and mouth open in an unheard song. The wings were outstretched in flight and the eyes seemed to flash with mirth and wisdom, all at once. It was made out of solid gold, dazzling white of diamonds flashing here and there.

It was a Phoenix.

The statue looked so real – so alive – that Harry self-consciously waited for it to move. Even so, when it really _did_ move, Harry still jumped about a foot in the air. The statue ruffled it's feathers and gave a little trill – a very _short_ trill, but Harry was so suddenly overcome with magical energy he was immensely grateful that that was all the statue had sung.

Riva and Maali laughed. "That's not a statue, Harry!" admonished Riva, grinning at him cheekily. "This is a Magic Phoenix!"

Harry's jaw dropped as he stared at the huge Phoenix in admiration. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but it....

"It's so _tall_!" cried Harry without thinking and immediately blushed red as his two guides laughed again.

"It's not really this tall," said Maali and, as if on cue, the bird launched itself into the air. But although it's feet definitely left the marble base, it didn't get any higher. But it's feet were rising, getting higher and higher....

"It's shrinking!" cried out Harry in astonishment, as the bird suddenly became the normal size for a Phoenix, flapping it's golden wings as it peered down at him, equally curious. It gave a short inquisitive sound, before diving down to the ground at a furious pace, headed right at him. Harry unconsciously stepped backwards, but the Phoenix stopped inches from the ground to land gracefully. It stared up at him with the purest white eyes he had ever seen. They seemed to literally blaze with power and warmth.

"Magic Phoenixes are what keep this Island separate from the rest of the World," said Maali from besides his ear. Harry jumped again, making the Air Phoenix still on his head squawk indignantly. Harry ignored it. "They take watches at the four corners of the Island and at the Centre – that was what this one was doing. They can shrink or grow, depending on their need or whim. They can appear and disappear whenever they want to and their feathers have magical properties." Maali's eyes shifted to where Harry's wand was shoved in the back pocket of his jeans. "That's where your wand gets it's power. They can also see through invisibility spells and can correct physical impurities, such as bad eyesight, hearing and so on. It is mainly thanks to them that we live so long – they are full of the purest magic and give us energy simply by being here."

Harry stared at the Magic Phoenix, transfixed, as it stared back, equally curious. They stared at each other for so long that Riva got impatient.

"For goodness' sake!" she snapped, flapping an arm impatiently at the Phoenix. "Come on, we'll be late!"

"Um, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Riva, dear," said Maali, eyeing the flustered bird warily. "It doesn't do to upset Magic Phoenix. You never know what they might – "

Riva gave a faint shriek before turning into a pink donkey.

" – do," Maali finished, staring at his granddaughter, who was waggling her ears tentatively. The Phoenix gave what Harry would definitely would call a laugh and flew off into the distance. He shrugged and said, "Oh well, at least that will shut her up a while. Come on, Harry." And he began walking across the tiled floor, heading for a building that Harry had not noticed before. He didn't know how. It was designed like an ancient temple from Rome or Greece. It was taller than the Phoenix had been and had a great sweeping staircase that lead up to the huge, magisterial pillars that spiralled upwards to support a triangular front. Harry blinked, shading his eyes with his hands. The temple was made out of what he imagined to be solid white marble, but it was almost glowing in the sunlight and Harry was pretty sure that normal marble didn't have veins of pure gold and silver running through it. The triangular front had a design of soft whorls and spirals that framed the silhouette of a Phoenix and a man, side by side.

Above the front was a series of statues on a balcony that ran the entire width of the front of the temple-building. They depicted each of the types of Phoenixes, all immaculately coloured and so life like again, that Harry was expecting them to be real Phoenixes as well. But, no. Their eyes were made of jewels and the fabulous colours that adorned them were just paint, not feathers. But they still made a glorious sight as they stared down at him and Maali, still walking across the great mosaic. It was much bigger than he had first thought. As Harry looked down at the mosaic he saw that it wasn't just patterns as he believed. It was telling a story – and if he wasn't much mistaken, it was the same story Maali had told him not that long ago. The channels of water either separated the pictures or became real rivers, streams, oceans and seas in the story board.

Looking up again, Harry realised that they had reached the white-gold-and-silver marble steps and Maali began to climb, sandalled feet, making no sound. Harry looked down at his own feet. He was clad in – as usual – a pair of Dudley's old trainers. They used to be white, but years of running in mud and of soaking in the rain had meant they had faded to a dingy grey colour. The shoelaces were trailing, looking as if they had been chewed, and parts of them were quite literally falling apart. Harry suddenly very strongly felt that he should not be walking across these marble steps with such tatty shoes on. Realising Maali was quite a way ahead of him by now, he yanked off his trainers and socks so violently that the Air Phoenix – who Harry had forgotten about – actually fell off his head. Cheeping angrily at Harry, it took off into the air an disappeared over the rim of the temple.

Setting the first bare foot on the marble step, Harry realised instantly that this had been a very bad idea. The marble, already heated up by several hours of burning sun, was scorching to the touch and it felt like his feet were burning. With a hiss of agony, Harry proceeded to run up the gigantic stairs two at a time, feet barely touching the scalding stone for more than a second. Maali, who had turned around to wonder where Harry was, was meet with a dark blur which shot past him up the steps.

At the top of the stairs Harry felt instant relief. This part was much cooler, seeing how it was in the shade now. Doubled over and breathing heavily Harry took the time to look around the inside. The ceiling seemed to be miles away from him, painted in an intricate design of royal blues and gold. Looking along the length of the temple, there was only one door, but this had to be the door to end all doors.

It was almost as tall as the temple was, towering above him so that the small designs etched into it's surface were lost. It was very hard to focus on, because it was made of solid gold again, somehow managing to reflect light even when there was none. In short one second bursts, Harry could make out small Phoenixes and humans impressed on the surface, framed by any number of precious gems. It was beautiful – and heavy. Harry doubted very much that even Hagrid could open that door.

"It's amazing, isn't it," said Maali in Harry's ear. Again, Harry gave an almighty jump. '_Damn, that man's quiet!_' Maali chuckled, before sighing. "Well, I'll be leaving you know. Bye!" And he made to stride off.

"What!" cried Harry, grabbing hold of Maali's arm, surprised by the amount of muscles he could feel. "You can't just go! What am I supposed to do?"

Maali shrugged. "Wait." And, pulling his arm gently out of Harry's grip he disappeared.

7 7 7

Harry stared at the spot Maali had just occupied and felt panic welling up inside of him. What was he supposed to do? Just sit here and wait? For what? And what about his friends? He was wasting time, shouldn't he go back to them?

There was a patter of hooves behind him and he saw Riva, the still bright pink donkey. Harry had never been so happy to see anyone in his life.

"Riva!" he exclaimed, delighted.

Riva didn't look quite as happy to see him as he her. Mind you, maybe that had something to do wit the fact that she was still a donkey. But she did look miserable. But then, Harry had the distinct impression that donkey's always looked miserable, no matter what. It was just their expression. Maybe Riva was laughing inside? Then again, she was a donkey – Harry knew just how _he'd_ feel if he were a donkey.

With a pop, Riva suddenly turned back into her self, grinning enthusiastically at him. "That was fun!" she said, clapping her hands together and dancing on the spot. Harry stared at her in shock. She thought being turned into a pink donkey was fun? '_She'd _love_ Fred and George then,_' he thought wryly, watching the younger girl looking all around her.

"Is that Magic Phoenix around her anywhere?" she asked him excitedly. "I want to see if I can break the spell any quicker this time."

Harry shook his head, more in mystified wonder than as an answer to her question. "No, it flew off," he told her and watched her face fall. She shrugged.

"Oh well," was all she said, before plonking herself down on the floor so violently that Harry jumped – for about the fifth or sixth time that day. _I have _got_ to stop being so twitchy!_' he told himself as Riva beamed up at him.

"So," she said, "Watcha doing?"

Harry's expression immediately turned grumpy. "Waiting," he replied dourly, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring fixedly at a point some way off. He still didn't know what he was waiting for. Did Maali expect him to open the doors or something, because if he was wait on! He would never open those doors. Was it a test of courage or something? Of patience? '_Cause, you know, it's very hard to patient when your best friends are out there, _dying!'

A dull pain on his ankle made him jerk out of his thoughts. He looked down to se Riva glaring at him once more. "Were you even listening to me?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"No," replied Harry honestly.

She glared at him even more and said, "_Why_ are you waiting?"

Harry sat down next to her, back leaning against one of the marble walls. "I don't know," he admitted, drawing his knees up to his chest and staring at a pillar in front of him. "Your Grandfather just said 'wait' and disappeared."

"Oh," said Riva, understanding dawning on his face. "He wants you to wait until the council are ready to see you. He's on the Council, you know, that's why he had to go." She scrunched up her nose in consternation. "Don't know why he didn't just _tell_ you, though." She shook her head. "He's so weird."

Harry, carefully refraining from mentioning that, out of the two, he thought that Maali was the _sane_ one, asked instead, "So, what Phoenix are you bonded to?"

Riva went very wide eyed and gave a giggle. "Oh, I'm not bonded yet," she explained, correctly interpreting Harry's look of confusion. "You bond when you're fifteen and I'm only fourteen. It's supposed to give enough time for your personality to develop – you know, you might develop an interest in medicine, which is a typical feature associated with Water Phoenixes. Or you are very good at magic. That tends to be the Fire Phoenixes, for some reason."

"Not Magic ones?" asked Harry, confused. Surely that made more sense, but Riva was shaking her head.

"No, haven't we told you enough times?" she said impatiently. "Magic Phoenixes are rare – _seriously_ rare. And they hardly ever bond. Maali was the last one to bond with a Magic Phoenix and that was about 100 years ago."

"Oh, so _very_ rare." Harry nodded his head absently, feeling disappointed. He would have liked to have bonded with a Magic Phoenix, but if they were that rare, then he could pretty well say goodbye. Besides, he wasn't a Child Of The Phoenix, any way. Who was saying he'd even get the opportunity to – "Wait a minute! You're Grandfather bonded with a Magic Phoenix 100 years ago?!" Harry exclaimed, the insanity of that last sentence finally getting through to him. Riva nodded slowly, looking confused. "You mean.... h-he's.... 115 YEARS OLD?"

"Yeah," said Riva, as though this were obvious. "I mean, he's more like my great great great grandfather but do you know how annoying that is to say every time you speak to him?" She suddenly noticed Harry's astounded face and added, "Why? Don't you guys live that long?"

"But he looks about..... /_THIRTY_/!"

"So?" Riva shrugged. "That's just how things are here. Did you not listen to Grandfather at all, or something? Magic Phoenixes give us long lives and prosperity."

"But 115?"

Riva scowled at him. "Yes, yes – he's 115. Big deal. My Great Great Great Great Great Grandmother's about 200 and she looks in her mid-forties."

"200!"

Riva, who was looking decidedly annoyed by now was just about to reply when an unearthly voice cut through the still air.

**The Council calls forth Harry Potter of England to the Phoenix House.**

The great golden door swung open so suddenly and so noiselessly that Harry would not have realised if he hadn't been facing it. He got stiffly to his feet, face tight with apprehension. He didn't really think that anything bad was going to happen to him, but.... well, just take a look at his track record so far.

He turned to face Riva, who was eyeing the black opening with slight misgivings. When she caught him looking, she swallowed and gave a grin. "Well, you have a nice time, now," she said, grinning cheerily, although Harry noticed she gave the door a wide berth as she got up and made to walk down the steps. "Don't forget to write!"

"Wait!" Harry called, as for the second time that day someone abandoned him to face Merlin knew what on his own. "What am I supposed to do?"

She turned round and shrugged. "I don't know – go through the door perhaps?" she added sarcastically. "I've not been bonded before, remember?" and she disappeared.

_'Bonded?_' Harry repeated to himself and turned to face the black maw that was threatening to swallow him up. '_I'm going to be bonded?_' He took a few tentative steps forward, feeling trepidation fill every fibre of his body. The opening did _not_ look welcoming. '_But if I'm bonded, surely that will help in the war?_' And that gave him the courage to take that one more step.

He shut his eyes.

And opened them again.

He was in a beautiful light rectangular room, with a ceiling that held a beautiful white-gold Phoenix at it's centre. Colourful streams flowed across various murals and latched onto it lovingly. The walls were that strange white marble with gold and silver veins. The floor was so black that it felt to Harry that he was standing on a sheet of glass over looking an endless and vast pit. He swallowed and looked up again. It was not a comforting sight. He looked all around him and discovered that the room was absolutely and completely –

Empty.

"Not empty, young Potter," came a whispering chuckle that echoed around the room. "Just not full."

Harry frowned and stared around him. "Who are you?" he asked, not directing his comment in any particular direction, but the voice did not answer him. Instead, it spoke again.

"So, after long years of waiting, we finally find a human that is worthy of our trust once more," he said, not seemingly talking to Harry. Harry decided he liked the voice. Although he wasn't too sure about it's subject matter, the voice was deep and pleasing, literally radiating trust and compassion. "But who will choose him?"

"I will!" came a very high pitched squeak of a voice and something appeared out of thin air, launching itself at Harry. Harry caught the small Phoenix with a start as it nestled against a chest and he realised what it was. It was the small Ice Phoenix who had sat on his lap that morning. And it was talking.

"Tut, tut, Harry," came the imperious voice again. "All Phoenixes can talk, but usually you can only hear the thoughts of your bonded. Here you can hear all of them as if they were spoken speech." It paused slightly, before adding, "And _it_ happens to be a she."

All Harry could muster was a faint, "Oh" and he looked down at the Phoenix again, who stared up at him with bright silver eyes. It wasn't blinking and just carried on staring at him. Harry, uncomfortable, asked, "Erm, do you have a name?"

She chirped happily. "It's Gliss!" she told him, fluffing her feathers and crooning slightly.

"Oh, that's nice!" said Harry enthusiastically, rewarded when the Phoenix chirped happily.

"Sorry I'm late!" came a new voice, this one definitely male and sounding like an adolescent. It had a definite drawl and a hint of rebellion to it's tone. "What's going on?"

"Frazzle, you're _always_ late!" snapped a female voice exasperatedly. "And don't apologise unless you mean it!"

"Yeah, whatever!" dismissed Frazzle, before suddenly exclaiming, "Ooh! What's this?"

Harry didn't realise that he was talking about _him_ until the Phoenix appeared right in front of his nose, amber eyes peering at him curiously. Frazzle was a Fire Phoenix and a magnificent specimen at that. His feathers were sleek and shining and he had a healthy, athletic look about him, wings beating powerfully at the air. He reminded Harry of Fawkes, but with deliberate mistakes – just like Maali had said. The tail, beak and claws were a magnificent yellow instead of the usual sparkling gold and the Phoenix definitely gave off a sensation of heat.

Frazzle's amber eyes suddenly grew sharp. "You've come from the human world?" he asked, excitedly, flapping getting more intense and sending powerful gusts over to Harry. "In that case, I choose you!"

"Wh-what?" Harry asked, a bit shocked by this sudden turn of events. "Why?" Not that he was complaining – he'd love to bonded with the Fire Phoenix – but surely they hated him too much as a human to want to seriously bond with him.

"Because," drawled Frazzle – literally rolling his eyes (_the_ most bizarre sight Harry had ever seen, including Riva as a pink donkey) – "you're so much more interesting. And you do have the fire of love and courage in you – I can see it."

"Yeah, count me in, too!" came a higher voice than even Gliss'. It seemed to ring throughout the Hall and Harry knew without even seeing it that this one was a Metal Phoenix. He could just tell and he was proved right when the Phoenix appeared on the ground near him. It wasn't one he recognised like the other two, but it peered up at him for a few seconds. "He looks interesting!"

"That's not a reason!" squawked Gliss indignantly. Harry began to fervently hope that their thoughts were usually at a lot lower pitch because otherwise he was going to have a permanent headache.

"It is, too!" retorted the Metal Phoenix, twining itself around Harry's ankle. Gliss glared at the Metal Phoenix and was about to reply, before another voice thankfully interrupted their arguement.

"Well, I choose him too!" came another female voice and the wind Phoenix that had bee perched on his head earlier appeared with a pop. "He's one for wind all right – check out those flying skills!"

"That's not fair!" came another female voice, this one quite dark and husky. "I was going to say that next! Falius, can't I – "

"No, Galea," came the first voice, sounding slightly amused with the turn of events. "Only one element per bonded. Lia said first, so she stays." There was a lot of dark muttering from Galea, who Harry assumed was also an Air Phoenix. Lia chirped happily and regained her position on the top of his head. The voice continued. "If that's all then I'll – "

"I choose him, too," came another voice and shocked mutterings rippled across the marble room. The four Phoenixes near Harry started craning their heads to try and get a better view of who had spoken.

The lead voice seemed to be very surprised, and Harry was sure if he was human he would have raised a speculative eyebrow. He was then plagued by hilarious visions of a Phoenix trying to do that.

"Are you sure, Glory?" he asked, unsure.

The Phoenix gave a slight sniff. "Of course I'm sure!" she snapped annoyed. "I wouldn't have spoken if I hadn't. Besides, he's got a very strong gift for it."

"Well, if you're certain....." the voice hesitated.

"I am," replied Glory, determination in her voice.

"Then, let it be done."

There was a blinding white light and then Harry knew no more.

7 7 7

**He's waking up!** came an excited voice, that, unfortunately, was no lower than before. Harry groaned and reached a hand up to massage his forehead. Whatever that had been, it had _hurt_.

**It was the bonding ceremony,** came a light female voice, sounding concerned. **It involves taking some of us and putting it in you and vice versa. It tends to conk us all out. **The voice paused, speculating**. Actually, you're the first human or Child to wake up so soon. We only just woke up ourselves.**

At this, Harry made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Practice," he assured the Phoenix, who he now recognised as Glory. Suddenly curious, he opened his eyes to see what kind of Phoenix Glory was. Probably an Earth or Water. But as his eyes met blinding white and gold his mouth dropped.

She was a Magic Phoenix.

In fact, she was the same Magic Phoenix that had turned Riva into a pink donkey earlier. Harry didn't know who he knew this, he just did. But he grinned. He thought he was going to like Glory – she had a great sense of humour.

**You mean you don't think you'll like us?** came a sad, squeaky voice and Harry looked over to see Gliss perched on his knee looking very sad and upset.

**Shut up, squirt,**snapped Frazzle, although his tone was slightly softened. **He'll like us all fine.**

"Um, yeah!" said Harry hurriedly. Frazzle was glaring at him rather fiercely. He suddenly noticed the small Metal Phoenix and realised that he didn't know it's name – or even it's sex, for that matter. "Er, hi," he began awkwardly, unsure as how to started. It sounded a bit rude in his head. Luckily for him, as earlier displayed all the Phoenixes could read his thoughts and it answered for him.

"I'm Durim," it said, "and I'm a male."

"Harry! You're awake already!"

Harry's head jerked up at the voice, an action that made him wince with pain. With a jerk of surprise he realised that he was still in the Hall but now it held a great table with about twelve chairs and even more chairs laid out in front of it. Harry himself was in a small circle in between the table and chairs. And it was full of people and Phoenixes. He allowed himself a "What the....?" before turning to talk to Maali who had called to him.

Harry attempted a grin. "Yeah – they told me I was early," he said, jerking his head to the five Phoenixes who were all huddled by his knee and looking at him curiously.

"May I be the first to say congratulations, Harry!" said Maali, grinning at him and seizing his hand. As he shook Harry's hand enthusiastically he stared admiringly at the Phoenix. "Such beautiful Phoenixes!"

Harry laughed as they all fluffed up their figures and he heard Lia say, **You know, I _always_ liked him!** "Thank you," he responded and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He looked over the various Children assembled and immediately felt self-conscious. He had never been much of a public speaker. When he caught sight of Riva – who grinned and gave him a thumbs up – he felt slightly better, but that feeling faded as soon as memories forgotten in the excitement of earlier came rushing back.

"Holy Merlin!" he exclaimed and several Phoenixes jumped. "My friends! I can't stay here! I have to go! You have to send me back!"

"All in time, Harry," soothed Maali, conjuring a chair for him. "Don't worry – we haven't forgotten."

Harry still felt like protesting, but Frazzle interrupted him. **Relax, Harry!** he said, fluttering over to him and head butting him hard. With a soft 'oof!' Harry fell backwards into the chair as Maali walked off to join the table. **Why do you think the Phoenixes asked Maali to bring you here in the first place?**

"What?" Harry asked, shocked, but he was distracted by a female Child calling the meeting to order. She had dark hair that was twisted into a knot at the back of head. Her face was quite stern and hinted of both Maali and Riva. As he realised that she looked to be in her mid-forties, Harry realised with a jolt that she was Riva's 200 year old Grandmother. He was suddenly very glad to be sitting down on the chair.

"Order! Order!" she thundered and immediately the excited babble died down. Harry gulped as she glared at some teenagers still talking. She looked very tough. "We are hear to recognise the bonding of Harry James Potter from the country of England." Everyone looked at him expectantly and Harry found the all too familiar panic rising in him once again. What was he supposed to do?

**Stand up!**hissed Glory helpfully, although she needn't have bothered to whisper. It was not as if anyone else could hear the Phoenix any way.

Gratefully, Harry stood, legs feeling as though they were made of jelly. **Now bow,** continued Glory as Harry obeyed, **and repeat after me. 'I, Harry James Potter,' - **

"I, Harry James Potter – "

** - formally accept my role as a Child of the Phoenix - **

" – formally accept my role as a Child of the Phoenix – " repeated Harry, feeling his tongue try and trip on the sentences.

** - and recognise my bonded and my responsibilities to them - **

" – and recognise my bonded and my responsibilities to them – " Harry was getting a bit uncomfortable. Not only were the hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into him disconcerting, but this bondage ceremony was sounding a bit like the marriage one. Which, he realised, it was... sort of.

** - and I will hold Gliss of Ice, Durim of Metal, Frazzle of Fire, Lia of Air and Glory of Magic in the respect and love owed to them,** finished Glory.

" – and I will hold Gliss of Ice, Durim of Metal, Frazzle of Fire, Lia of Air and Glory of Magic in the respect and love owed to them," Harry repeated, feeling very proud when he went through all the names without one stumble. The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry flushed red.

When the noise died down, Riva's goodness-knows-how-many-greats Grandmother spoke again. "Harry, we brought you here because we know of the dangers in your world," she spoke and Harry saw the audience leaning forward at her words, interested. "The danger in the form of Lord Voldermort. Although we have not made our presence revealed to the world, we still watch over you and when we see Voldermort we see damnation and death."

A shiver of fear ran through the Hall, but all Harry felt was utter hatred and anger, as he always did whenever Voldermort was mentioned. He was still wondering what was going on. "We have heard the prophecy," continued to Maali, blue eyes no longer twinkling as they fixed on Harry who tried not to squirm, "that you will be the one to ultimately defeat the Dark Lord and we have brought you here to train you. You have already shown your worthiness by your bonded" – his eyes flickered over to Glory, who was sat unmoving – "and now you will train here for five years, before you are sent back out into the world and to save the world."

"Five years?" repeated Harry, incredulously. "Voldermort could have taken over the world by then! And then it won't do any good killing him! My friends are going to _die_ and you expect me to sit on this Island for five years? If they're not dead already they will be when I get back!"

"We sent Voldermort away from your location," said Maali, frowning at Harry, as if he was not behaving like he should be. Well, he was sorry, but Harry didn't _care_. '_Wait, let me change that! I'm not even sorry!_'

**Listen to him, please, Harry! **begged Lia, blinking her gorgeous eyes at him pleadingly.** What's the good of going back now and getting killed straight away? Your friends will still die and this time it'll be for nothing!**

Harry was almost too angry to take note of her argument, but it did make sense. But he still didn't want them to die!

".....strongest protection on them we could," finished Maali, still frowning at him. "They will not die before you get back, Harry – we made sure of that."

"But – " began Harry again, even though he was starting to give way, when a frustrated shout from the audience this time cut him off. Riva was on her feet.

"For the Phoenixes' sake, Harry!" she snapped, red faced. "It's not like you've got a choice here – the only way you can go is if we send you so there!" And she stuck her tongue out at him and sat down.

"Whilst my Granddaughter was out of line," said Riva's Grandmother, glaring at Riva who just glared back, unabashed, "she does have a point. You can't go back." She gave him a smile. "You'll like it here, don't worry."

**Yeah!** piped up Gliss, flapping her wings to land in his lap. **Plus, we're really interesting – you'll love us!**

**I bet he'll love me the most!** said Durim, also fluttering up to his lap and trying to push Gliss off.

**No he won't!** snapped Gliss, sounding aghast and very angry. **He'll love me most!**

**Me!**

**Me!**

**Me!**

Harry groaned as the two Phoenixes continued on, high pitched voices piercing his brain like needles. He had two hyperactive child Phoenixes, a very rebellious adolescent Phoenix who sounded as if he was constantly looking for more dangerous stuff to do, a very possessive Air Phoenix and when you added the eccentric Riva into the mix...........

"It's going to be a very long 5 years," he confided to Glory, who nodded.

7 7 7

**Review Responses:**

**wanderingwolf** – Do you mean Aberforth, by any chance?! **Grins wolfishly** all will be revealed in good time!

**ello** - **blushes** - why thank you! But I think I may have inadvertently answered your question – because I'm not so good when it comes to the updating front!**Faith546** – Yes, you were right! **Gives her a pat on the back** And I made a mistake when I was typing it – It was supposed to be 'I am Harry James Potter' and I changed it back to what it should be. Did you get what I meant with the word games in relation to his parents? And yes, I did didn't I? Hmmm……… well, we'll just have to wait and see because I'm being mean and suspending this cliffie over a few months (and an extra chapter in between!)**A-man** – Lol! Can you imagine their faces if I did and they found out! They'd probably kill him for child abuse – unless Riva hasn't already driven him to suicide!**SilverKnight7** – I'm beginning to see a certain pattern to your reviews here....**insanechildfanfic** – thanks. I really liked my last two chapters, but I don't think this one is as strong, mainly because it's a lot of background.

**Anonymous** – thank you for reviewing and I feel I have horrendously let you down. **Sniffs** Sorry.

**ironic-humour** – I know, I'm really mean, aren't I? And it still isn't resolved!**Wytil** – lol! Yes, I would imagine not. Or maybe they have a weird sense of humour and thought it'd be more interesting for them this way round?**Oracle10** - **grovels on her knees** Sorry! I didn't realise it was your name. And I needed a name that began with I and Ilana just happened to be the one I liked most.

**maguswizard** – yeah! Can you imagine? Ron would start stuttering and sprouting incomplete sentences all over the place and Hermione would start looking up stuff in books about time travel. I reckon Neville would faint and Fred and George would think it was an excellent joke! And thank you for your review.

**Lady Prongs** – thanks and next chapter there will be some more explanations about what's been going on, yes.

**pingpong5** – Thanks for your review! And I'm sure loads of people didn't get the name thing – or couldn't be bothered either way! So I congratulate you on being bothered enough to care. I think Sirius has retreated into himself because of that, but there are more reasons too. And I have updated Time is a Healer, even as we speak! Grins proudly And I've posted a one-shot – I was going to say short, but it's actually quite long! – all at once.

**gaul1** – thank you very much!

**MoonSprite** – aargh! So many questions! Nah, I'm just kidding, although I can't answer the first. They will find out who 'Sam' is at one point, but I can't really say when.

**Fangfoot** – enthusiasm! Thank you!

**ia** – Yes, he did say Dumbledore out loud! Like I said to MoonSprite, I'm really not sure when they'll find out – but they will!

**Prd2bAmerican** – I'm not saying! But thanks for your review!

**Siri Kat** – um, as you've noticed I've been a real bitch and avoided that, which is doubly mean since I last updated in January. I think this calls for the beating of sticks – or maybe being the bludger in a Quidditch game – because _ow_! Um....what was the point I was making again? Oh, yeah, sorry about the lack of updates!

**zorro x** – glad I caught your interest and all I can say is that, no, Dumbledore is _not_ going to know who Harry is.

**Molly Morrison** – Thank you very much and I hope I keep your interest.

**Dra** – I'm afraid I won't be able to post again until July or else my dad will quite likely kill me, but hopefully I'll be able to pull my socks together – no, wait that's the wrong saying! Get my act together and post more regularly. Fingers crossed, anyway....

**eruve tinwen** – You'll find out more about Ron's Harry scar and the Sirius- Ron gr-ishness in the next couple of chapters. Actually, you were the only one to pick up on or mention Ron's Harry scar. I'd have thought more people would have. Anyway, thanks for you review!

**obsessedw/hpbutitsok** – I'm so mean! I know what it's liked to get spontaneously hooked on a story and have them not update. And I'm about to do it again, too! Grr..... I hate me, too!

**siriusforeva** – thanks and sorry about the humoungus delay!

**Flyingwithdragons** – I know! I am so very, very cruel, especially as I'm going to leave it hanging for a few more! Oh, woe is me!

**Talamh** – Thanks. I tend to grow to despise some Ocs, although in this case one was necessary. But I'm glad you like her! And thanks for Time is a Healer, too!

**Sierra-Falls** – wish granted

**cocopops** – And I thee fail most miserably!

**Lex** – thanks and, again, I'm so sorry – both for then and for now. What? I mean, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for this one and I'm sorry you're going to have to wait so long for the next!

Thanks for reading.

Luv,

Hannanora-Potter

xxx


	6. Chapter Six: The Rules and Regs

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks hes dead, but hes not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** _blah_ = thoughts

***waffle*** = mind speech

**Chapter Six: The Rules and Regs**

"Dumbledore? But youre dead!"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and his eyes widened in horror at what he had just said. He was suddenly immensely grateful for Rivas warm weight in his arms as it prevented him from clapping his hands over his mouth like he wanted, but the damage was done. Out of the corners of his eyes he noted both Rons and Sirius shoulders stiffen slightly and Ginny shot him a sharp glance. Harry suppressed a groan. All that bother with the veritaserum had been utterly wasted now. He either had to tell them who he really was or wait to be executed. A faint shiver ran down his spine. 5 well, 15 years ago he knew his friends and allies would never kill even a proven death eater in cold blood, but now...

However, it was only a very small part of his mind that was given over to terrified panicking. Later on Harry would marvel at how good at multitasking hed become in his own mind, but right now the majority of his attention was given to the wizened old wizard sitting behind on old wooden desk.

Professor Dumbledore was smiling at Harry, mouth curving and not at all hampered by the ugly scar which ran from the corner of his left eye, down across his cheek and slicing across his mouth to end on his chin. The smile was welcoming, amused but tired. Very tired. Harry could spot worry lines that were not there before and yet another scar a diagonal slice on the forehead. The white hair was wispy and still just as long, but Harry had never known Dumbledore to look so old...

Then Harry met Dumbledores twinkling blue eyes and knew that he was still the same Dumbledore that he remembered.

'_But is he?'_ Harry thought, in exasperated confusion. For playing over the top of this older, war beaten Dumbledore was a wizard in eccentric turquoise robes lying half buried under a pile of wood and bricks. The eyes were shut, chest not appearing to move at all and the usually immaculate white beard was matted matted with the sticky red blood that was pooling around him.

'_How _can_ Dumbledore be alive?_'

All this had taken merely a second and already Harry felt his shock wearing off and his usual cool and calm demeanour setting in again. Keeping the look of surprise on his face, he steeled himself for a fight. He couldnt trust this man until he was sure he was really Dumbledore which was highly unlikely.

With Sirius, Ron and even Ginny looking at him in suspicious tension, it came somewhat as a surprise when Dumbledores smile only widened and he rose to his feet, somewhat stiffly. "So Lord Voldermort is still putting about that old lie, is he?" he asked, eyes twinkling madly in amusement.

Now Harry was really confused he was sorry to say that it was not an unfamiliar feeling these past 24 hours. "Excuse me, sir," he asked tentatively, though his eyes gave away some of his feelings of mistrust, "what lie?"

Dumbledore smiled again. "15 years ago," he explained, eyes watching him keenly for a reaction, Harry supposed "Lord Voldermort attacked Harry Potters birthday party, in which I was attendance." The eyes flickered briefly to Sirius, who was standing stiffly with a careful mask of indifference on his face. But the eyes were full of anguish and hate. "Part of the building was destroyed and fell on me. I was grievously injured. At first I was thought dead or about to die, but Madam Pomfrey Merlin rest her managed to save me. But," and he winced as he reached a bony finger to rest on the hideous long scar that marred his face, "I have never fully recovered. And although she saved my life, I was in a coma for several years. Lord Voldermort, never one to miss an opportunity, put it about that I had died. With Harry Potter gone" another flick of the eyes towards Sirius "and me presumed dead, the Wizarding World panicked and dissolved into chaos. We lost more people in those few months both to death and the dark side than we have in the past 5 years. And our losses have been great, so that is saying a great deal. By the time I had awakened, we were already shut up inside Hogwarts."

The Headmaster broke off and looked away, pain filling his eyes. Harry felt his own eyes prick as he imagined the despair that would have engulfed the Wizarding World at the "loss" of both him and Dumbledore. With their two greatest hero figures gone, he could well imagine the panic that followed. A surge of guilt almost overwhelmed him. Whilst his training had been hard he had been happy there, on the Phoenix Island. He had had friends and an easy life where no one hated him. And here were his friends, fighting a loosing battle over and over, watching more and more of their friends either betraying them or dying in battle.

Dumbledore looked up at him again, curiosity alight in his eyes. Harry swallowed and tried to suppress his feelings. Dumbledores story sounded plausible, but he still remained suspicious. Plus, he needed his wits about him here. "I am curious, however," continued the Headmaster, eyes watching him even more carefully than before, "how it is that you know me, when you and I have never met."

Harrys mind raced like wildfire. "Kiera my wife had some chocolate frog cards that we let R-Bluebell play with," he explained, sweating slightly at the near mix up with the names. He saw Sirius eyes narrow slightly but no one said anything, so he continued. "One of them was you and youre in a lot of the wizarding books that I studied from. To be honest, sir, I dont know how any witch or wizard could _not_ know you."

Dumbledore was smiling again, eyes twinkling. Ginny was also smiling. Rons mouth quirked upwards, but the movement was too slight to be called a smile. But Sirius..... Harry shivered. Sirius was staring at him with something almost like hate, but it was colder. It was calculating and thoughtful. Harry had never really appreciated that Sirius came from a long line of Slytherins until now. He hated seeing his Godfather like this and his heart was aching to tell him the truth. Another wave of guilt washed over him. Sirius had been so close to becoming the happy, smiling man he remembered in his parents wedding photograph. But then he had lost Harry. And he went as far the opposite way as possible. Harry had more or less killed him.

"I am sorry to hear about the death of your wife and your parents," said Dumbledore and Harry almost jumped. He had quite forgotten anyone was in the room. Once again, he pushed back his feelings. He could not afford to be distracted by memories and "might have beens". Harry looked at Dumbledore, letting some of the pain he felt over Sirius seep through into his pale blue eyes, hoping Dumbledore would take it as pain over his family.

Harry ducked his head and then looked up, plastering a brave sort of smile on his face, hugging Riva closer to him. "At least I still have Bell," he whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead in what he hoped was a fatherly way.

Ginny was smiling sympathetically at him, as was Ron. But Harry didnt think Sirius had it in him any more to feel sympathy for anyone. A real tear trickled down Harrys cheek. He had the distinct feeling that he might have been able to deal better with a dead Sirius than a Sirius who was cold, hard and cared for no one and nothing in the world.

"You said she was seven?" asked Ginny, sinking into a chair and crossing her legs. Her light brown eyes rested on Rivas white blond hair in admiration. Harry nodded and also sat at Dumbledores invitation. Sirius remained standing and Harry could feel his gaze boring into his back.

Ginny and Dumbledore exchanged glances. "She should be in one of the beginners classes then," she said, as though speaking her thoughts out loud. "Shes a little bit old, but Im sure shell catch up and "

"Whoa!" protested Harry, thoroughly confused. He tried to shift his weight, uncomfortable, but Riva was still lying heavily on his lap and it was no easy matter. "What do you mean, the beginners classes?"

Ginny bit her lip and looked to Dumbledore to explain. The old man sighed wearily, placing his elbows upon the desk, fingers in an arch, eyes fixed on Harry. "All children from the age of five upwards at Hogwarts take magic lessons," he stated, eyes a little guarded, as though wary of Harrys response. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfiguration," he listed and Harry felt incredulity boil over.

"You teach mere _children_ how to fight a war?" he asked, in astonishment. He, of all people, knew about Dumbledores want of protecting the innocent. After all, that was why he held off telling Harry about the Prophecy for so long. And to suddenly see him teaching kids who could barely even write defensive spells was a shock to the system.

"Would you rather they died?" snapped Sirius, suddenly, eyes and tone full of cold fury. There was a touch of a sneer to them as well. As much as Sirius would hate to hear this, Harry was beginning to think that his Godfather had spent much too much time around Snape lately. "If Death Eaters break into the Castle theyd be defenceless. At least wed be giving them a chance!"

This, for some reason that Harry didnt know, seemed to be a bit of a sore point with Sirius, as Dumbledore, Ginny and Ron were all staring at him with pity and understanding. And, just like Harry, Sirius hated to be understood or pitied. He glared at them.

Realising it would be a while before this new Sirius ceased to shock him if ever Harry tried to move the conversation on. He nodded his head awkwardly, and said, "Yes, I suppose that is a point." He looked down at the sleeping Riva who was beginning to stir slightly and smiled at her. "I would hate for something to happen to Bell."

"Dumbledore nodded his head. "She can start lessons tomorrow," he said, motioning a hand at Ron. "Rons youngest daughter, Allie, is 5 and shes in the beginners class, too. Shell help Bluebell settle in and show her around." His smile widened. "She knows Hogwarts better than most people, but does have a certain affinity with trouble, although her mother would never admit it."

Ron blushed slightly and Ginny smirked. Sirius, as always, remained motionless, though his face held a hint of a sneer and something else. Was it longing?

"Then theres the matter of you, Mr Jotary," continued Dumbledore. Harry whipped his head round.

"Me?" he asked, realising too late that his voice sounded too defensive and wary. '_Keep it together, Potter!'_ he reprimanded himself, annoyed. Sirius eyes narrowed again, as did Rons, but the other two seemed to be ignoring it.

"Yes," confirmed Dumbledore. ""Hogwarts isnt a hotel everyone in it must work in the war. We have several options available, mainly divided into two subcategories: Fighting or Teaching."

Harry listened carefully, inwardly heaving a huge sigh of relief. It was very hard not to constantly expect the worst, but this he could handle. Ron continued. "The teaching side of things is exactly what it says it is," he explained, leaning forward in his chair to gaze intently at Harry, elbows resting on his knees. "You teach the kids thats anyone under the age of 15 and 16 in some cases defensive spells, charms and transfiguration, and anyone over 10 also learn potions, some basic herbology and instruct them on how to deal with some of the more dangerous magical creatures, like dragons and so forth. They also have weekly drills on where to go in the case of a breach of castle walls and some lessons in combat swords, hand to hand and even guns." Ron broke off and grinned at the overwhelmed Harry. "Not that youd be teaching them _that_. We have some experts in the castle."

"The fighting side is split up into groups," said Ginny, taking the other half of the Castle. "Some people work in research ancient spells and developing new weapons to use against Voldermort. They tend to work in teams. Theres the subterfuge side. They do the really dangerous stuff, going out and gathering information on Voldermorts activities. We used to have some in his Death Eater ranks" Harrys mind automatically flew to Snape "but they were found out. Theres the defensive side, who work on maintaining the Castles defences and the tactical side, who plan the battles or counter attacks. But, in reality, they dont get to do very much anymore and most of them work in other divisions as well. Theres also the Healers but I dont really think youre one, are you?" Harry shook his head. Ginny nodded. "Well, I think that thats more or less it then."

Harry let the information sink in, but he already knew what he wanted to do. He was going to be a teacher. He had assumed that the Defence Against The Dark Arts position would be open when he originally arrived back in England and had been brushing up on his knowledge in advance, working out teaching plans. But, of course, that was when he had thought Hogwarts was still just a school, not the last gathering of all that was left of the Wizarding World as he knew it.

"I Id like to be a teacher, please," he said softly, ignoring the snort of contempt he heard from Sirius. Harry was sure that Sirius was probably in the subterfuge department, always doing the most dangerous tasks possible. Sirius was just like that. He probably saw opting to teach the easy way out.

Dumbledore nodded, as though he had expected this. "Well probably put you with the younger ones to begin with, as were not sure about your magical ability," he said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a schedule. Harry nodded, although he was longing to protest. "Plus, you have been home tutored and are probably not used to a class environment." He looked up from the piece of parchment. "I dont suppose you took your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, did you?"

Harry shook his head. "I studied for them, but never actually took the exam," he replied, mentally crossing his fingers. He was treading on very thin ice here, as he had no clue about the procedure for home tutored witches and wizards or what the world had been like at the time. "I couldnt take the exams at my own house and since I was technically attached to the Salem Institute and not Hogwarts I had to go there for the exams and by that time travel was so hard that... well." He trailed off and was immensely relived to see that three of them accepted his story. Sirius obviously didnt, but Harry wasnt really expecting him to. Sirius looked like he wouldnt trust a sausage on a paper plate.

"Well, one of usual teachers was killed a few weeks ago and we havent really found anyone to replace them," Dumbledore continued, tapping the parchment with his wand and making a duplicate appear next to it. He handed this to Harry. "The teachers have been trying to cover, but there really arent enough of them. Your classes are in pink."

Harry wasnt surprised that the teachers had been having a hard time covering. It appeared that, instead of a different teacher for each subject, a teacher just took their group for every subject and there werent any rest periods, either. He was teaching a beginners class every day of the week, except for the weekends. He had to teach them Defence, Transfiguration, Charms and reading and writing. They also had two very brief History of Magic classes each week and one flying lesson a fortnight. Flipping over onto the back he saw a list of names that included an Allie Weasley, a Charles Longbottom and to his delight Bluebell Jotary, glistening at the bottom in fresh ink.

There was a loud trill and a showering of a beautiful, ever familiar melody as a gold and red bird swooped suddenly into the room and Harry found any lingering doubts over Dumbledores identity vanish as Fawkes landed on the old mans shoulders. Harry stared at the Phoenix, even more fascinated than when he had first properly met him in the Chamber of Secrets. Having lived on an Island with the true Phoenixes for several years, he could now pick out the elements from each bird; the red colours of Fire, the golden tail and beak of Magic and the warm feeling inside created by the Fire-song.

Fawkes cocked his head at Harry, before giving another chirp and fluttering off of Dumbledore to land on Harrys head. Harry didnt know if Fawkes recognised him for who he really was and giving the Phoenixs strong links with the Magic Phoenix Harry wouldnt be surprised or if he could sense that Harry was a good person, Harry didnt know. But, in any case, Riva woke up with a start and promptly fell of Harrys lap.

"OW!" she exclaimed, hitting her head hard on the floor, before bursting into loud tears. Harry had to admit that Rivas acting was getting better and better as he saw Ron wince and put his head in his hands. He leaned forward and scooped her into a hug, careful not to jolt Fawkes, who was looking at Riva with mild interest. _And heres another link with the Real Phoenixes,_ thought Harry, dryly. _That nut case, Lia, tends to sit on my head a lot, too._

"Shhhh, its alright, Bell," Harry comforted the distraught 7 come 19 year old. He rocked her back and forth, mentally adding, ***You know, youre actings getting better and better!***

***Who says Im acting?*** asked Riva, sourly. ***Im not doing this on purpose, Harry bloody hormones! I cant stop!***

Harry tried not to snigger, but it was a close call and he was glad he could hide his face in her shoulder. All the same, he hoped shed stop soon as her yells were giving him a headache.

Fawkes, displaced slightly by Harry, gave another trill and launched himself off his head, fluttering and hovering in the air and Riva immediately stopped crying. She whipped her head round to stare at the Phoenix, her expression somewhere between fascination and revulsion. Her hand gripped Harrys arm very tightly as she asked, ***What, in the Phoenixes name, is _that_?***

"Thats a Phoenix, sweetheart," Harry informed her out loud, watching Riva work her mouth silently in amusement. He was never too sure where the Children of the Phoenix stood when it came to the Super Phoenixes: whether they hated them or were sorry for them. The idea that they might be fascinated by them had never occurred to him until now.

"His name is Fawkes," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling down at her, blue eyes twinkling. Fawkes landed by her feet and stared up at the fascinated child in front of him. He gave a little chirp. "Dont worry, hes very friendly."

But it appeared that any misgivings that Riva had had over the bird had vanished when Dumbledore had told her his name. ***So this is Fawkes, huh?*** she asked Harry, careful to keep hold of his hand even as she moved forward to stroke Fawkes feathers lovingly. She smiled and cooed at him. ***Arent you a gorgeous boy, then? And, you know, I have to thank you for saving my friend Harrys life in his second year.*** Harry sniggered, although the only one who noticed was Sirius, who stared at him in mistrust and suspicion. Harry didnt notice, too glad that Riva liked Fawkes. Although he loved his bonded, Fawkes held a special place in his heart, whether he was a proper Phoenix or not.

Harry looked up from observing Riva and Fawkes to meet the blue ones of Albus Dumbledore, who looked a lot more welcoming than before. And then Harry got it. Fawkes was the final part of the test, to see if Harry was trustworthy. This was confirmed when Dumbledore spoke out loud. "Fawkes seems to like you," he commented, petting the afore mentioned Phoenix as he flew back to him. "And who Fawkes trusts I trust. Phoenixes just happen to have a natural kind of talent for this sort of thing." Riva and Harry exchanged quick, knowing glances. "Now Im sure you must be hungry. It is around 10 oclock, after all."

Ten oclock? Harry shot a quick glance to his watch and was surprised to see that it was, indeed, 10 minutes past 10. The questioning must have taken longer than he supposed, as the sun was just disappearing as he and Riva approached the Wall, around 7. '_How time seems to fly,'_ Harry thought sourly, thinking back to the slight time warp he had just himself encountered.

Dumbledore nodded his head towards Ginny, who rose to her feet. "Ms Pierce will show you to the kitchens, as Im sure youre both starving. Ms Pierce is the Overseer of the school side of things and will show you around tomorrow morning. Your class will be informed that they dont have any lessons in the morning and you can take the afternoon one." Dumbledore rose to his feet and reached out his hand for Harry to shake. Getting hastily on his feet, Harry reached out and grasped the elder mans hand in his, though mind still wondering about Ginnys surname. Pierce. Had she gotten married then? But Dumbledore called her Ms, not Mrs and Harry didnt know the name of any wizard called Pierce. "I hope to see you at Breakfast," Dumbledore said and then sat back down. Grasping Rivas hand in his, Harry smiled and bade them goodnight, following Ginny out of the room. Sirius and Ron didnt move.

As Harry and Riva descended the magically moving staircase, he strained his ears backwards, hoping to get a snatch of their conversation. Throwing caution to the wind he very briefly extended his magical hearing. Not too much, he didnt want to attract Ginnys attention not to mention Dumbledores or Sirius. Riva, however, noticed what he was doing straight away and shot him a grin.

"....I dont _care_ what the veritaserum says, Dumbledore!" Sirius was snapping, anger evident in his voice. "I dont trust him one inch. I was watching him and he was behaving _very_ strangely!"

He picked up a faint exasperated sigh that had to belong to Ron. "You think _everyone_ acts suspiciously, Sirius!" the redhead snapped and Harry could just picture the glares they were giving each other. "And his wife and parents have just been killed of _course_ hes going to act a little strangely!"

Sirius snorted. "Dont tell me you actually _believe_ that cock and bull story he told us back there?" his Godfather sneered incredulously. "It was all too convenient and "

"Sirius!" came Dumbledores voice. It wasnt angry, as Harry would have expected, but resigned and weary. "Disregarding your own personal feelings, Mr Jotary was under the influence of veritaserum and could not possibly have lied about himself and Fawkes trusts him. So Im asking you to put away your misgivings and try to at least be civil!"

There was no response from Sirius and Ron had just started to speak when they were suddenly out of range. Harry cancelled the extension with a sigh. Was he ever going to get Sirius to trust him again?

7---------------------------------------------------------7---------------------------------------------------------7

The Hogwarts kitchen was just how he remembered, full of bustling house elves, even at this late hour cooking and baking various things. However, the four house tables seemed much longer than he remembered and the whole kitchen in general seemed to have been magically increased. Ginny hadnt said much on the way down to the kitchens, except to occasionally point out a useful room here and there. Although Harry already technically knew his way around Hogwarts, all of the rooms seemed to have different purposes. For example, the charms corridor was now the Subterfuge Department, with Severus Snapes office Harry wasnt too surprised to learn that the ex spy was the Head of the Department being located in Professor Flitwicks classroom.

Ginny wandered off to speak to a house elf about some food, leaving Harry and Riva to sink onto the benches surrounding what would have been the Gryffindor House Table. Glancing nervously around for eves droppers, Riva leant in and whispered, "Well, whaddya think?"

Harry looked down at her. Her face was a little pale and pinched and she looked a bit nervous. Harry sighed. "Where do I start?" he asked, sadly, thinking back to his Godfather. "I never thought it could end up like this. All crammed into Hogwarts, waiting for death, with no real hope of ever winning." He shuddered. "Its dreadful."

Riva looked at him sympathetically and was about to respond when Ginny came back, clasping a plate of bread and butter. Behind her trailed some house elves, between them carrying some thick tomato soup, a few sandwiches, some hot sausages and some pumpkin pasties. One held a jug of Pumpkin Juice. As they placed all the food in front of him he smiled and thanked each one. They looked delighted.

"Sir is very kind!" said one little elf that had eyes that very much reminded Harry of Dobby, but whos extremely high pitched voice as opposed to just a high pitched voice told him that she was a female. Which he should have guessed by the pink Alice band, complete with ribbon, on her forehead that reminded Harry rather unpleasantly of Umbridge. He shivered. But the introduction of clothing intrigued Harry. Did this mean that Hermione had finally managed to persuade all the house elves to be freed?

He asked Ginny. "I notice some of your house elves wear clothes," he stated matter of factly as he picked up a light sandwich. He could feel Riva listening intently besides him even as she dug in hungrily to a pumpkin pasty. "I thought that house elves wore uniforms."

Ginny smiled fondly. "Most do, but I assume you meant Tinker?" she asked, jerking her head at the pink bowed house elf. When Harry nodded her grin got wider. "Well, shes a free house elf. Her father came to Hogwarts after being freed to work for Dumbledore and so theyre free elves as well."

Harry felt his heart jump. '_Surely she doesnt mean _Dobby_?'_ he thought in astonishment. '_Hes still here?'_

"You know, I wouldnt have thought that a standard education involved the habits and employment of common house elves," Ginny commented thoughtfully, although it was more a general comment than one designed to catch him out. He supposed she was just intrigued.

Harry shrugged. "My education was rather thorough," he said simply, before latching onto something else. "And my dad really did want to know everything about your world, my world now, I suppose." He gave a short laugh, as though remembering something fondly. "My mum always was intrigued by them. Said she wouldnt have minded one herself."

Ginny smiled at that too. "Yes, my mother always wanted one," she said, picking at a sandwich absently. Harry, much to his confusion, had somehow gone through four sandwiches, two pumpkin pasties, a bowl of the soup and three sausages. Riva had eaten even more. Ginny smiled wryly. "Never got one, though. All we had was a ghoul in the attic that threw pipes around whenever it got bored."

Harry smiled at her. "Well, I didnt even have a ghoul, so count yourself lucky," he informed her, moving on to another bowl of soup. He must be really hungry, for he really didnt see how he could have eaten so much in so little time.

Ginny sighed once more, staring off absently into the distance. "I wish you didnt have to see Hogwarts for the first time like this," she said, sadly. "Not as a battered war zone, sheltering the remnants of society as we know it. When I started here it was just as it was supposed to be a school. That ugly wall wasnt there for starters and we could go out on the grounds as much as we wanted well, compared to now, anyway without the fear of being killed, or tortured or raped."

She broke off suddenly, realising where she was for the first time. She reddened as her gaze latched onto Riva, who had stopped eating and was gazing at her with a fierce intensity. "Oh, Im sorry," she apologised and Harry saw remnants of tears in her eyes. "This is hardly fitting for the dinner table and in front of, well..."

Harry gave a kind smile. "Dont worry about it," he said, finally finding he had finished all the food (with Rivas help) only to find a generous portion of apple crumble and custard being shoved under his nose. "You sounded like you need to get things off your chest." Ginny smiled gratefully at him and for a while nothing was said as Harry and Riva ate their way through the crumble.

Harry kept sneaking glances at Ginny throughout their meal, unable to help himself. She looked so... _weird_. '_Well, not weird, exactly, but its quite a shock seeing her so old before her time,'_ Harry corrected himself, taking a large mouthful of hot custard and apple. Then he had to chastise himself once more. 'Shes_ not the one thats old before her time Im... I dunno, _young_ before mine or some other stupid thing... argh, thats going to bug me for the rest of today!'_

Ginnys hair was still a Weasley red, but it was faded slightly from the brilliant flames it had been in her late teens. She still looked like Ginny same cinnamon eyes, same small face that peered at him but she looked much sicker. Her face was peaky and tired and she looked too pale to be healthy. As though she hadnt seen the sun for a couple of years. Which, Harry reminded himself, she probably hadnt. '_Its like she said, about being stuck inside, afraid to go out in case of attack. Everyone must be shut up inside, day after day, only venturing out for battle and for watch duty.'_ He shuddered, feeling that all familiar guilt coursing through him once more. He tried to tell himself that he had no choice that the Phoenixes and the Children had forced him into this situation. But they hadnt. He could have fussed some more, fought back, demanded to be taken back to his friends, tried to escape. He had done this to his friends and family. To Sirius. To Ginny, Ron, Hermione. To Remus and Dumbledore he didnt even know if the former was still alive. He had done this to everyone.

A small hand suddenly slipped into his. *** Quit it, Harry,*** came Rivas sharp, but slightly softened voice. *** I know what youre thinking and you couldnt have done a thing. Or didnt you remember about the Island slipping out of time when it had picked you up? It would have returned to time when it felt you were ready, when this world was ready. You could have swum away from our Island for years and you wouldnt have budged an inch.***

Harrys guilt hadnt completely gone, but it felt slightly lessened by Rivas words. He smiled slightly and looked at her, but she was completely engrossed in eating her crumble. Although he did catch a brief wink. *** How do you _do_ that?*** He asked, more amused than annoyed. ***Just know what Im thinking about without asking?***

Riva gave him the equivalent of a mental shrug. *** I'm female.***

Harry gave a splutter of laughter and managed to spray half eaten apple crumble all over the table. He blushed scarlet as both Ginny and Riva started laughing and as a wave of House Elves came to clean it up. Ginny refrained from commenting, seeing how he was a stranger to her and she was much too old and dignified in any case.

Riva was under no such restrictions.

"Eew, Daddy!" she exclaimed, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "That was _disgusting_! And you always lecture _me_ on manners! I hardly think thats fair as Ive _never_ spat my food all across the table! Well, thats the last time I listen to _you_ about manners! And you far "

"Okay, _sweetheart_," Harry interrupted swiftly, clamping his hand over Rivas mouth. ***If you want to live do _not_ finish that sentence,*** He told her firmly. ***I would like to retain a little dignity in Hogwarts.*** "I think thats enough sugar for you today." He smiled sweetly at Ginny, who despite any age induced dignity and maturity was still unsuccessfully trying to hide her sniggers, and added, "Shall we?"

She smiled and got to her feet. Harry, not trusting Riva to spontaneously go running off or to say something unflattering and rude about him, picked her up, much to her chagrin. As Harry followed Ginnys tired figure out of the Kitchens and through deserted corridors, he thought again about her sudden change of name. '_What was it Dumbledore had called her? Price? Pices? Surely not Pince? Oh, thats it. Pierce,_' Harry remembered, frowning at Ginnys back and ignoring Riva yawning widely and muttering under her breath about "stupid kiddy body". '_I wonder who shes married to? _I _dont remember any wizard called Pierce. Maybe hes a muggle?_' Harry pondered, a bit doubtfully. Ginny, like her brothers, had had a little trouble understanding all the muggle things that her dad was obsessed with. He decided to try and find out - not very easy, but Harry - as Snape would have disdainfully pointed out - was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors were well known for their rash actions.

"So, do you have a large family?" asked Harry, trying to sound casual. Drowsy as she was, Riva still tensed up and shot him a warning look.

***Be _careful_, Harry,*** she warned, shifting in his arms to get more comfortable. ***They're already suspicious of you as it is.***

Harry, as always, ignored her even as Ginny responded.

"Yeah," she grinned, although it was a little strained. "I have 7 brothers, all older than me."

"_Seven_?" Harry asked, incredulously, although inwardly he was breathing a sigh of relief, '_Have, not had,_' he thought. '_That means they're all still alive. That must have been one strong protection the Children put on them, then._'

"Yeah," she repeated, a wistful look coming into her eyes. "I used to be so annoyed because I was the youngest, not to mention the only girl. They always teased me." She sighed, smile fading a little. "I can't believe I've still got all of them, you know. Especially Ron."

Harry feigned a look of concentration. "Oh, wait!" he said suddenly, cutting Ginny's melancholy reflection short. "Is he the red head in Professor Dumbledore's office?"

"Yes, that's him," she said, smiling fondly. "He's number three on Voldermort's to kill list. He, along with Hermione, anyway. You'll meet her in the morning probably, but she's the smartest witch I've ever met. Head of the Research Department here and sometimes takes special advanced classes with the older students. Albus and Sirius are numbers one and two, but I don't think the Dark Lord could decided which out of Ron and Hermione he wanted to kill the most. They were Harry Potter's best friends." She broke off and shot him a questioning glance. "You do know who Harry Potter is, don't you?"

Harry nodded, feeling odd at talking about himself in the third person. "Boy-Who-Lived, disappeared about 15 years ago," he replied, watching Ginny keenly. He could feel even Riva listening intently.

"Well, after he disappeared they changed. Well, Ron changed. Hermione was always in the habit of over achieving in everything she did. But Ron... he's been fighting for Harry ever since then and shown he's a genius at tactics and planning battles. He's head of that area and is one of the instructors for the more physical aspects of battle training. He and Hermione are one of the biggest thorns in Voldermort's side, one of the reasons he hasn't destroyed Hogwarts and taken over completely."

"Wow," said Harry quietly, thinking. It was hard to believe that Ron had changed so much. He had trouble picturing the rash red head as anything but how he had been when he had been taken to the Island; talked without thinking, lazed about in class, a little bit oblivious to any subtleties, a tendency to obsess over food and with a temper to rival Voldermorts'. Now he seemed confident, put his skills to good use and thought through everything carefully. But was it really a change for the better?

They walked for a while in complete silence, each of their thoughts stuck in the past. Harry was thinking about these new revelations and unsure how to respond. The all too familiar guilt was creeping up on him once more as he thought about the lives Ron and Hermione were forced to lead because of him.

'_But wait,_' he thought, suddenly. '_Why am I blaming myself? At the end of the day, this all comes down to Voldermort. Why should I feel guilty about something which he brought about? This destruction of lives is all _his_ doing and I'm going to make him pay for it. Soon._'

***Way to go with the cheesy lines, Harry*** came a sleepy mental voice as Riva gave a large yawn. Harry blinked down at her huddled form. He didn't even realise he's been broadcasting. ***Although it's about time you stopped blaming yourself, you complete idiot. It's not like you _choose_ this life, now, is it?***

***Shut up, you,*** Harry told her as he and Ginny rounded an unfamiliar corner in the castle, although his tone was softened considerably. It was hard to stay mad at anyone that looked that sweet, curled up in his arms and sucking her thumb.

***I heard that, too,*** said Riva, sending him the mental equivalent of a rap on the head.

Of course, Harry hypothesised, Riva was not nearly quite so endearing when you had her rude mental interruptions resounding through his head.

"Well, here we are," said Ginny, suddenly coming to a halt. Harry, caught up in his reverie, didn't notice until he bumped into her. Blushing and apologising he looked at what was to be the entrance to his new home. It was a portrait of a beautiful phoenix painted in mid-flight across a perfectly blue sky. It was all Harry could do to not snigger at the appropriateness of it all. Putting all his will into it, he could not escape a little amused snort and Ginny shot him a strange look. He quickly changed it into a cough. She didn't look too convinced, but carried on.

"In here is one bedroom, a living room/study, an ample bathroom and a kitchen," Ginny listed, staring at the Phoenix, which had just come to life, circling down to perch on a branch in the foreground. "We've set up a cot in the bedroom for now, but usually once they get to about 6 or 7 we put them in one of the old house dorms." Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow at her and she elaborated. "Hogwarts, when it was a school, was divided into four houses - Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin," she explained. "A magical hat sorted you into your house on your first day according to your abilities. After everyone moved in there didn't seem much point, as certain houses - like Slytherin, which was infamous for being the house of many a dark witch and wizard - hardly had anyone in them and what we needed to do was to stand together, not divide ourselves even more. But parents with long and odd working hours as well as experience have shown us that children respond better to living with children of their own age. It develops stronger friendships and loyalty - which is essential in battle. But we don't split them up into houses - just age groups. Riva would probably be in what was Gryffindor Tower." She shot him a grin. "I was a Gryffindor, you know. Even now, I kind of miss it."

Harry smiled back at her. "I know what you mean."

Ginny's gaze sharpened. "What?"

'_Oops!_' "I went to a muggle boarding school for my secondary education," he answered, mind racing as he mentally berated himself for being so stupid. (Riva was also berating him for the slip up and he was getting slightly distracted.) "It wasn't anything like this, mind you. Just during the weekdays and it wasn't too far from where I lived anyway. There weren't any houses but I still find I miss the feeling."

Ginny still wasn't entirely convinced. "I thought you were home tutored," she persisted.

Harry was feeling a little uncomfortable now and tried not to shift around. Riva, whose extra weight had previously gone unnoticed suddenly felt as though he were holding up the world as he tried to dodge Ginny's suspicious questions. His head was beginning to ache as he thought back carefully to what he had said when being questioned. "Only for magic," he pointed out. "And I didn't not go to school just because I wasn't going to Salem. Muggles do have education too, you know," he said, frowning at Ginny who - as he had predicted - blushed at her mistake. Whether she was against Voldermort or not, he had found that most witches and wizards had a slight prejudice built into them that muggles were inferior. It wasn't something Ginny could help - in fact, Harry knew that all the Weasley's tried to beat it down - but it was working to his advantage at the moment as she hurried on past her blunder. '_So she won't ask me any more questions which I'll undoubtedly mess up._'

"Anyway, the password is just your full name at the moment, but tomorrow someone will show you how to change it," she said, indicating the Phoenix painting, who was watching them curiously. "Breakfast starts at 6:30, but I'll come and collect you at 7:15 and show you around. Bell can start lessons tomorrow if you like."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Ginny," he said and she smiled and started to walk away. Harry watched her leave, thinking back to the very different Ginny Weasley he had known from his Hogwarts days. '_They've _all_ grown up by now,_' he thought sadly, feeling a hollowness inside him at the thought of his friends. _'I knew it would be hard to be friends with them the same way I was before, but now... well, now it seems impossible._'

Ginny stopped suddenly, just as she was about to disappear round a corner, and looked back at him. "I'm glad you're here, Sam," she told him, looking far from glad. In fact, Harry swore he could see a tear glistening in her eye. "It's nice to have a fresh face and Merlin knows we need a new perspective. And you're so damn easy to talk to. No one can really lend a sympathetic ear anymore - we've all got our own problems and - and losses. So I'm glad you're here." And she disappeared out of sight.

'_Okay... what in the Phoenixes' name was _that_ all about?_' Harry thought, even as he recited his full name, "Sam Peter Hiram Jotary" not even revelling in the genius of that name as the portrait swung open, revelling a nice, cosy living room, decorated in what he thought of as Phoenix colours gold and red. Once upon a time he would have said Gryffindor colours, but considering the portrait guarding it and where he had spent the last "5" years of his life, Harry figured the former was more appropriate.

_What Ginny said about losses... well, I know that all the Weasleys are alive,_ Harry pondered, taking a seat in one of the large armchairs facing the already roaring fire. _Could she be a widow? That _might_ explain Ms rather than Mrs Pierce. Or a sister-in-law? Well, I suppose that it doesnt necessarily mean a relative. Could be a friend..._

Riva gave a little sigh and shifted in his arms, still sucking her thumb. She was fast asleep or appeared to be. Just to make sure he wasnt sure what an indignant Riva would do to him if she thought he was mocking her now-age he went, "Aw, how absolutely _adorable_!"

When she didnt respond he decided that she was probably asleep and took her through to the bedroom. He managed to walk into all the other rooms in his quarters before he found the right door for the bedroom. Inside was a large four poster bed even bigger than the one he used to have in Hogwarts. Next to it was a smaller cot that was clearly designed for small children i.e. Bluebell. He tucked her in and she gave a content little sigh as her hand (that was not currently having its thumb sucked) reached out and grabbed the little cuddly stuffed niffler that had been placed there. Harry choked back his laughter, debating whether or not to get a camera. In the end he decided not to he didnt want to be found dead in the morning by Ginny and went back to the living room to think about his new situation.

Dawn was just stealing in through the windows before Harry finally fell asleep, still on the couch in the sitting room.

7----------------------------------------------------------7--------------------------------------------------------- 7

Thanks for reading.

Luv,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	7. Chapter Seven: Hogwarts The Grand Tour

**Title:** The Children Of The Phoenix

**Summary:** At his 17th Birthday Party Harry Potter disappears after being ambushed by Voldermort. After Fifteen years the Wizarding World thinks he's dead, but he's not. Instead, Harry wakes up on a strange island inhabited by hundreds of Phoenixes. After training for 5 years with both the Phoenixes and their Keepers (the Children), Harry returns to the World he was forced to leave behind. And he gets a rude shock. For not only is the entire Wizarding World on the defensive (and safely entombed in Hogwarts) but every seems to be much older than they should be...

**Timeline:** Books one to five, although Sirius did not die. Kingsley Shacklebolt was near enough Sirius when he fell to grab him before he fell through the veil. Otherwise the same.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and any related characters and settings. They are all the property of J. K. Rowling.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

***waffle*** = mind speech

A/N: Wow… long time me no update! I think the worst thing is that this has been written for a few years but I was going to finish somewhere else and I hadn't written that bit… but reading back it worked better going up to where it finishes now anyway! D'oh!

I wish to apologise for my extremely long absence. I really am going to try my hardest to finish this story – my new years resolution – but if you can have a little bit more patience? (Not that I think anyone will actually still be waiting for this story… 7 years (or however long it's been) is rather a long time to wait!)

Anyway…. Enjoy!!!!!!!!

_**Chapter Seven: Hogwarts - The Grand Tour**_

Sunlight crept through the partially closed curtains, playing ripples across Harry's bed. Harry screwed up his face, not wanting to wake up, and turned over so that his head was buried in his pillows. Yesterday had felt like it had lasted a couple of years. There had just been too many revelations and surprises for him to feel eager about today.

And speaking of unwanted eagerness…

"Riva, will you get the _hell_ off my bed!" Harry groaned, twisting back around to glare at the hyperactive 19-come-7 year old, who was bouncing on his bed and grinning at him, not at all put off by his angry glare. Harry reached behind him and grabbed a pillow and flung it at her as hard as it could. He missed by a metre.

Riva raised a mocking eyebrow at him. "Now I can see why you've never been a chaser," she told him, grinning, and bounced harder, blond hair flying around her pink face. "And you're lucky I put a silencing charm around the room otherwise you'd get done by Ginny for child abuse."

"Actually, I think I'd be rewarded for getting rid of a national pest," Harry corrected her, wearily running a hand through his hair. It was an old habit, but one that ended rather painfully as his fingers got tangled in his longer, sleeker Malfoy-a-like hair. As his fingers got jammed in the knots he had just created he froze, staring at Riva and running through what she had just said. "Wait a minute! Did you say _Ginny_?"

"She got here about five minutes ago to take us down to breakfast," Riva confirmed, grinning at him. "I thought I should wake you up because otherwise you'd do something stupid." Harry glared at her as he tried to negotiate his way out of the tangled mess that were his bed coverings, painfully yanking his hand out of his hair. '_I don't remember dreaming anything that would make this sort of mess,_' he thought, glare softening into a habitual frown. He did _not_ like waking up in the mornings. '_In fact, I don't even remember _going_ to bed…_'

"Well, I'd be grumpy too if I was a stupid prat and went to bed at goodness knows what time of night and had fallen asleep on the couch," Riva told him, looking slightly put out at his glare. Harry really hoped she wouldn't start crying again. It would be all he needed. "And not once have I heard a 'thank you, Riva, for so thoughtfully putting me into bed when you came across me passed out on the uncomfortable couch when you discovered your stupid child body has terrible bladder control and not to mention even more bloody unsettling hormones. And your father likes to launch missiles at you when you've so thoughtfully put up silencing charms around his room because he's a grumpy git and thoroughly unappreciative of you and – "

"Bloody Phoenixes, Riva, stop!" Harry cried out, staring in astonishment at her, who, rather incredibly, had not stopped grinning the entire way through, even as she thoroughly insulted him. '_I think I would have preferred the tears,_' Harry thought, finally managing to get out of bed. She looked like she had been hit by a cheering charm. '_Or someone's given her coffee,_' he added, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. "Have you had any coffee this morning?" he asked her, arms folded.

"None," she replied, cheerfully, "but the House Elf that was cleaning earlier gave me a lollipop – or three."

Harry resolved to never let Rive near confectionary of any kind. Ever.

Harry sighed. "Well, go on outside and keep Ginny occupied," he said, grabbing a robe from the trunk that Riva had obviously unshrunken earlier that morning. "I'll be out in a bit."

Riva merrily skipped over to the door, but paused, hand on the handle. "I still haven't gotten a thank you," she said, pointedly staring at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Riva."

She beamed at him and yanked open the door, skipping out. Harry shook his head and, as he got dressed, wondered once more what he had done to deserve being landed with the most annoying and hyperactive Child to pose as his daughter.

* * *

Five minutes later, Harry emerged from his room in a black robe, lined with silver shooting stars, to find Riva pealing with laughter and Ginny smiling slightly. He raised an eyebrow at them, but before he could say anything, Riva gave a happy little shriek and launched herself at Harry. It was more thanks to his brilliant seeker reflexes that he caught her, rather than actual anticipation. He inwardly winced at what it would have looked like – and, more importantly, what Riva would have _done_ to him – if he had dropped her.

He had a better look at what she was wearing now and found she was in ice blue robes which matched the ribbons in her hair, but over the left breast was the silver emblem of a spectacular Phoenix. Harry restrained from rolling his eyes, as Riva began to chat to him at top speeds.

"Ms Pierce has been telling me about the time a teacher turned a boy into a white ferret and bounced him around the walls for being naughty," she gabbled at Harry, in perfect childish prattle, but underneath, she added, ***And now I know what to do to that psychotic Death Eater and his wife when I meet them next: make the change **_**permanent**_**.*** All bad feelings he had towards her vanished instantly. It seemed she was still quite sore over Pansy's proposed torturing sessions. '_And Malfoy as a permanent ferret? Why didn't we think of this before?_'

However, all he said to Riva was ***Make sure you invite me to the show*** before he turned a raised eyebrow to Ginny in reference to Riva's spoken statement.

Ginny smiled at Harry, who still had troubled accepting that it was _Ginny_ in front of him. In the light of day, she was even paler than before, but she didn't look quite as sick, the skin not as sallow. The smile she shot at him, whilst genuine, looked out of place on a face that had too many worry lines for its' age. And she still looked tired. Not physically perhaps, but mentally, and it marred her smile. He couldn't look at her for more than a few seconds, turning instead to glance at Riva, getting his emotions in check. In his heart, Harry knew he could never accept these changes to the people he loved. Being resigned to them was the best he could hope for.

"He was a… well, shall we say 'eccentric' Professor and an ex-auror. Didn't approve of people sneaking up and cursing from behind," Ginny stated by way of an answer, and Harry turned back to face her, quashing down his remorse. She shrugged, still grinning slightly. "The rest is history." Her grinned widened. "Or, as my brother Ron would say, legend."

Harry tried not to laugh at this, instead shifting Riva's weight in his arms to stare at his 'daughter' seriously. "Now, 'Bell, I hope you were listening carefully," he told his hyperactive charge as she looked up at him equally seriously, blue eyes wide, "because I don't want to have to turn you into a ferret because you've been naughty." He gave her a small grin, but immediately realised he's made a mistake as Riva's eyes widened and tears quickly pooled in her eyes.

'_Oh no_.'

"B-Bu-But I d-don't want t-to b-be a ferret!" she wailed, lower lip trembling violently, before she burst into tears, leaving Harry to stare at her in shock.

***You little beast!*** He told her, half-annoyed and half-amused as the wails only got louder. He suddenly realised that, as soon as Riva had started crying, his arms had shot out and now he was holding a screaming, bawling child at arms length and that Ginny's eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. Trying not to look apprehensive, he decided to try and act like that was part of his comforting technique. "Bluebell Jotary, look at me," he commanded Riva, voice gentle and – hopefully – caring. Just to make sure she would do as he wanted, he added another message, ***Please, Riva, look at me and stop wailing. You can still sniffle, but Ginny's getting suspicious again***

There was a sudden silence and Harry's ears were ringing at the sudden lack of noise. Riva was playing her part perfectly, giving a little sniffle here and there, red rimmed eyes still leaking a few tears as she stared at him. Harry could still feel Ginny's eyes on them and refrained from letting out a sigh of relief. "I'm not going to turn you into a ferret, sweetie," he told her, keeping eye contact with Riva. He was annoyed to see laughter dancing at the back of her eyes. '_Why was I landed with her again?_' he asked anyone who was listening – unfortunately there was no reply. "No one is – I was just making a joke. So you don't need to cry, 'Bell."

Riva nodded slowly, adding in a few sniffs for effect, and opened her mouth. "It wasn't a very _good_ joke, Daddy," she said solemnly. "M-mummy was m-much b-better," she added, lip trembling again and Harry pulled her forward and gave her a hug, wrapping his arms around her as she cried quietly. He heard a little sigh from besides him and he turned his head slightly to see Ginny looking whistfully at him and Riva. Good, he seemed to have allayed her suspicions.

***Um, excuse me, but I think that was more down to **_**me**_**!*** interrupted an indignant voice. Harry, used as he was to their non-verbal conversations still had to refrain himself from thinking. ***I **_**told**_** you you'd be lost without me,*** she added, slightly smugly.

***Excuse **_**me**_**?*** Harry sent, incredulously. ***This whole thing was **_**your**_** fault! And how did you know what I was thinking… **_**again**_**?***

Riva gave him the equivalent of a mental shrug and a smirk, before giving him the same reply as before. ***Because I'm female.***

Harry decided to ignore her and turned back to Ginny, who smiled at him. "So, I heard someone mention breakfast?"

* * *

'_This,_' Harry decided, '_has got to be _the_ strangest experience of my life.'_

_ 'And that's saying something._'

Everyone had stopped eating when Ginny came into the Great Hall. Harry had no idea why. People did that in Hogwarts when he was at school, too. He hadn't done it. But then, he was usually the one that everyone stopped eating to stare at. '_It's like a sixth sense,_' Harry mused, as his shifted 'Riva – who was still in his arms – self consciously. '_The Hogwarts' population just _know_ when someone new has arrived, or when someone's _done_ something. It's the only explanation._'

It was not as though everyone was watching the doors every second to see if someone interesting or new to the castle would walk in. On the contrary, people hardly spared a glance at the door, chatting with friends, having small strategy meetings, arguing over whether a new spell would really be effective in battles or simply just devoting time to devour as much food as possible. And the Great Hall was packed, people filling every possible space they could. The Great Hall had been expanded considerably, mimicking the parallel change in the kitchens, but people were still rushing about every where, doing this and that, looking for the elusive salt and pepper shakers.

So it was really nothing short of a mystery when, as the three of them stepped up to the doors and crossed the threshold, everyone immediately stopped their activities to stare at the three.

Harry wasn't really used to being stared at anymore. And even when he was, it had never been on such a large scale. He fidgeted, again, going a bit red. Riva didn't seem to care and stared back at everyone just as unashamedly as they did her. '_Not being self conscious seems to be one of the only advantages of being a seven year old,_' Harry thought, wishing his face wasn't quite so red.

At the high table, Dumbledore got to his feet, smiling slightly, though it was tired. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he spoke and it was like a lamp had been turned off as every one of the inquisitive, suspicious faces all snapped round to stare at the Headmaster. "I would like to introduce you to Sam Jotary and his daughter, Bluebell, who will be joining us in the Castle."

Everyone's faces snapped back to Harry who tried not to turn beetroot again as Ginny led him to the High Table. He wasn't really too sure why as the High Table seemed to contain all the important people and did not seem to be exclusively for staff – after all, there were hundreds of wizards and witches in the Great Hall and he was only a newcomer – so why was he being pulled up to the High Table?

Ginny seemed to notice the reluctance in his arm (she was dragging him there by the elbow) and seemed to guess (accurately) the reason for his new found slowness. "Don't worry about it. Everyone sits on the High Table when they arrive," she told him in a whisper as Dumbledore continued, announcing that he was to overtake the beginners' classes and that his class had the morning off lessons (there were quite a few small cheers after this). "It's so you can be introduced to the various heads of departments and get to know who they are and them you."

And this is how Harry found himself being introduced to people he knew – or used to know – very well. Ginny took him up to meet Dumbledore in the middle first, who smiled at Harry and shook his hand again. Behind him, people had begun to talk again, but Harry could still feel the stares boring into his back.

"Good morning, Mr Jotary," Dumbledore greeted him, eyes twinkling. "And you too, Miss Jotary," he added with a small chuckle, as Riva stuck her arm out at him when he had finished shaking Harry's, eyes solemn once more. There was a slight sigh from all the females and Harry repressed a grin. Although their current complexions did remind him awfully of Malfoy, with her wide blue eyes, pale skin and golden hair, Riva looked like an angel. '_Now I just have to get her to play the part… fat chance._'

"Good morning, Professor Dumbumbeedlededore," Riva said, face completely straight and serious as she deliberately got Dumbledore's name wrong. There were quite a few sniggers down the table at this, Ginny besides him included. Harry felt his mouth twitch but tried to look shocked nonetheless. Suffice it to say, he was failing miserably. Luckily for him, Dumbledore gave a laugh at this.

"Sorry," Harry apologised, silently vowing to kill Riva later (***I heard that!***). "She's never been able to pronounce your name – has a certain block against it, though neither me nor Kiera…" his voice faltered perfectly, before he carried on in a determined sort of way "… never managed to understand where she got all the extra letters from. We think she's confusing you with a bumblebee."

The table actually broke out into laughter at that one, Ginny besides him giggling fiercely, Dumbledore grinning delightedly at Riva who was looking perfectly confused at all the laughter. Harry had no idea how he had managed to get that line out without smirking in a dreadfully Malfoyesque fashion, but he had even managed to sound apologetic about it and blush when everyone laughed at him. ***My acting's getting better by the second.***

***I wondered what that scraping noise was when we walked into the Great Hall.*** Riva sent him, tone thoughtful but mocking at the same time. ***It was your fat head. Not much of an ego, have we, Harry?***

***Actually, I think you'll find that that was **_**your**_** ego, not mine.*** corrected Harry, mildly. ***But you do realise that you're going to have to call Dumbledore Dumbumbeedlededore every time you see him now?*** he added, mentally grinning.

Riva ignored him.

"That's quite alright, Mr Jotary," Dumbledore said, looking suddenly a lot younger as he smiled at Riva. "My name, after all, does mean Bee in Latin."

Harry smiled uncertainly – which is what anyone would do if this was the first time they'd met Dumbledore and his eccentricities. Of course, he was quite used to Dumbledore so he just mentally rolled his eyes. Some things never change.

Not allowing Harry time to comment, Dumbledore carried on, smiling at Ginny. "Now, I'm sure you're eager to have breakfast, so I'll keep you no longer. Ms Pierce?"

Ginny smiled at Dumbledore, before grabbing Harry's elbow and dragging him to the other end of the table, where there was a clump of red heads and Harry had the ominous feeling that he was about to be introduced to the Weasley family… again. He wasn't sure why he was feeling ominous about it. After all, he knew from Ginny that they all survived… but that didn't mean that they resembled the people he knew in any shape or form.

"Let me guess," said Harry dryly, as the red sea of hair loomed closer. "This is your family?"

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, the red hair does kind of give it away, doesn't it?" It wasn't really a question, which was good, because it gave him time to swallow and to breathe calmly. He wasn't sure he could handle this… all of them together once more, but without a clue who he really was. In his arms, Riva squeezed his hand reassuringly, even as she looked to the red heads with interest.

Finally they stopped and Harry finally looked forward and was slightly relieved to find himself in front of Ron, someone he had already re-met.

"You've already my brother, Ron, but I thought you should have a proper introduction," Ginny said, smiling at Harry and Ron. "Sam Jotary this is Ron Weasley."

"Hi," said Harry, reaching out and shaking Ron's hand. The palm in his felt etched and rough – as though riddled with quite a few scars – and Harry once again found himself studying his former best friend with curiosity (though trying to hide it). Ron's eyes were a lot warmer than yesterday, but still held a small, hard glint of suspicion. He found his gaze drawn automatically to Ron's forehead and the strange lightning bolt scar he had seen yesterday. Despite the seriousness, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of amusement as he unconsciously participated in the habitual greeting that he himself had hated so much. He again noticed the premature streak of white in his otherwise red hair, but in the light of day Harry could see that Ron's face was weatherworn and brown, and there were thought creases in his brow. Little scars, unnoticed in the dim firelight of yesterday, were suddenly noticeable, all over his face and, when Ron let go of Harry's hand, his earlier suspicions were correct when he saw scars marring Ron's hands. As Riva stuck out her hand to be shaken too, a small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

But what got to Harry more than any visual scar or disfigurement was how _serious_ Ron looked. Out of the three of them, he was the one that always looked on the bright side of things, managing to make changing the subject into an art form. Hermione was the one that consistently worried about school work and Harry himself was always preoccupied with Voldermort. Ron was a breath of fresh air, always managing to distract Harry with Quidditch, the dreaded Chess matches and just random ramblings (which he was very good at). Before they started dating, Ron managed to pull Hermione's attention away from school work with a good argument (which, though neither of them would have admitted it, Harry knew they both enjoyed) and after they started dating…well…

Looking at Ron now, it was as though he had died and left nothing but his ghost behind.

There was a brief pause where Harry and Ron caught each other's eyes before another voice interrupted their staring match.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Weasley," came a familiar voice and a head of still bushy brown hair popped in front of him.

Harry blinked at her as he automatically shook her hand. '_At least her hair never changes_,' was the first thought that crossed his mind, smiling as he took in the bushy brown hair that was partially tied back by a black elastic band. The smile faded slightly as he took in her face.

Hermione's face was death white – she was even paler than Ginny. She had a diagonal slash on her cheek as though someone had cut it open and another one just under one eye. The eye above it was slightly out of focus, the usually chocolate brown eye taking on the tone of rusty brown – the colour of dried blood. With a pang to his heart, he realised that she was blind in her left eye – and if not blind, then certainly not very visually able. The other eye seemed perfectly healthy, if a little blood shot due to lack of sleep – '_or, knowing Hermione, excessive use because of reading_'. A small monocle dangled on a chain around her neck, leading Harry to believe that maybe she could see out of it – a little. His blood was beginning to boil at what his absence had done to his friends. He had to concentrate very hard not to let any of it show on his face – or to crush Hermione's hand by accident.

Riva was getting slightly alarmed. ***Harry, you've got to calm down!*** she hissed, panicked. ***I know it's bad but it's not your fault – take the anger out on Voldermort, not on your friends.*** Harry didn't reply, forcing down his anger to bring his smile back to it's former cheeriness. "Pleased to meet you," he told Hermione, noticing how much thinner she looked and how many lines she had on her face. She looked even older than she already was – so did Ron and Ginny, really. It was all in their eyes. The tell tale signs of having fought a hopeless war for countless years. He didn't think he'd really find an adult in the castle that didn't have eyes like that.

"I'm the Head of the Research Group at Hogwarts," she informed Harry, smiling slightly at her. "But I sometimes tutor some of the more promising students when I've got the time. And _if_ they're good enough."

Harry wasn't really sure what to say to that, but Ginny laughed and Ron just pulled Hermione into a hug, smiling.

"Our 'Mione's a right genius," Ginny said proudly. "And an insane one at that to supervise over my brothers."

"Er… which _ones_?" asked Harry, for once exactly portraying how he felt: confused.

"Fred and George," said Ginny, smiling. "They're twins – even _I_ have difficulty telling them apart – and incorrigible troublemakers, too."

Hermione frowned at Ginny, wrapping an arm around Ron's waist. "They're not like that anymore, Ginny," she said softly, sadness underlying all her words. "They haven't been for a long time."

Harry felt even more confused than this. The possibility that Fred and George would ever be serious and stop playing pranks on people was about as likely as Snape defecting to Gryffindor and smiling at everyone instead of his usual sneer. '_This War has destroyed everyone. They're still here and alive, but not really. They shouldn't be like this._'

There was another silence, tinged with sadness, as everyone reflected on what had happened to them. Ginny, Ron and Hermione had seemed to have forgotten that Harry was there, but that was fine with him, as he, too, was caught up in reflecting about times past. Even Riva was silent for a moment, letting the four best friends dwell in the moment.

Until she got bored, however.

"ACHOOO!"

The force of Riva's sneeze actually sent Harry flying backwards and a burst of uncontrolled magic (or, as Harry suspected, very _much_ controlled magic) lashed out in front of them, turning Ron, Ginny and Hermione's hair a very vibrant shade of pink. As Harry fell heavily on his back, letting out a loud "oof!", the Great Hall burst into laughter. Harry was left to stare at the ceiling in shock.

***What in the Phoenixes' name was **_**that**_**?*** asked Harry, trying to tilt his head up to glare at Riva, who was now sitting on his tummy.

***I sneezed.***

***Yes, I can **_**see**_** that!*** Harry snapped, propping himself up on his arms and staring down at the innocent, angelic face before him. ***But why – hey! Come back! I haven't finished talking to you yet!***

Riva ignored him and got off his tummy as dignified as she could and then said, quite clearly, "Bless me."

'_When we go to bed I'll do more than that…_' Harry thought threateningly as he found himself heaved to his feet by a still laughing – and pinked haired – Ginny.

"Are you alright?" she asked, when she calmed down. Harry had to suppress a snigger – she did look extremely weird with pink hair.

"What? No, yes, I'm fine," Harry said, brushing down his robes and stretching his back out. He shot a look at Ginny's hair. "What about you? Are _you_ alright?"

"I'm fine," Ginny said, grinning. She started to walk back over to Ron and Hermione, whose hand Riva was shaking enthusiastically. '_I hope she doesn't think that she's going to make me forget this _that_ easily,_' he thought darkly, before returning his attention back to Ginny. "Actually, I haven't laughed this much in ages." She paused for a moment, smile drooping, before adding quietly, "None of us have."

Harry was about to say something – what he had no idea and now that he thought about it he was rather glad for the interruption because no doubt it would have been cheesy and totally inappropriate – but Hermione's stopped him.

"That's a rather strong magical gift your daughter has, Mr Jotary," she said, smiling at Bluebell. Harry winced to hear Hermione treat him so formally. "I think she might have been a little annoyed that we weren't paying attention to her."

Harry shot her an alarmed look. "You're not saying that was _intentional_, are you?" he asked, worriedly, restraining the urge to glare at Riva as he shot a glance at her. '_She's going to get it, tonight,_' he repeated to himself as Riva shot him a look of pure innocence. Only Harry noticed the amused glimmer in her wide, blue eyes.

"Oh, no," Hermione assured him, smiling widely. Harry sighed in relief. "But, when we're young, magic doesn't really have a way of focussing itself and takes it upon itself to interpret how it is to be used from our subconscious. Usually, brains are so mixed that it finds it hard to pick out just one emotion or desire to act upon, which is why accidental magic tends to focus itself when we are exceptionally stressed or frightened." Hermione – who, as usual, was sounding like a textbook – shot a glance at Riva. "Maybe she's just not used to having share you with other people or maybe it was purely accidental – could be being in Hogwarts. Atmosphere here is thick with magic."

'_Personally, I'll take the view that she's a spoilt brat,_' Harry thought as he nodded, still apologetic looking.

"Of course, I say the very young," Hermione continued, stabbing a fork vaguely at a grilled tomato, "I had a friend who blew up his aunt once when he was thirteen, so I'll just say magic is unpredictable."

Harry tried not to blush as he remembered the day when he blew up Aunt Marge. That brought his thoughts to the Dursleys and the joy he had felt the last day he was with all these people. He wondered whether they were still alive. For that matter, he wondered how much the muggles knew about what was happening. It wasn't something he could pass off as general ignorance for he had been supposedly living as a muggle for all his life. His thoughts drifted once more to the last blood relatives he had. However much he hated them, he hoped that they were still alive: no one deserved to be killed and tortured by Death Eaters.

A bell ringing brought him out of his muses and besides him Ginny jumped. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Sam!" she apologised as everyone began to reluctantly prise themselves away from their seats. "I completely forgot the time. And you've only met Ron and Hermione."

Again, Hermione cut him off before he could answer. "Don't worry about it, Ginny." She waved someone over, before looking up at Harry. "You'll have plenty of time to get to know everyone, Mr Jotary. Everyone… well, nearly everyone, is perfectly friendly. Besides, I have someone I want Bluebell to meet."

A bushy haired red head popped up next to Harry who tried not to jump. The head of hair belonged to a small girl who looked to be about 5 years old and was almost a prefect image of her mother excepting two things:

Her hair, though it inherited Hermione's bushiness, was a distinctive Weasley red

She was wearing a perfectly innocent smile that looked as though it belonged on the faces of Fred and George.

Harry was sure Hermione would never wear such a smile and, remembering Dumbledore's comment to Ginny and Ron last night, he had to smile down at the little girl. She looked up at him curiously, before over to Bluebell – who was gazing at her with as much interest as Harry – before her gaze slid over to her mother and father. She gave a gulp.

"It wasn't me, I swear!" were the first words that came out of her mouth and Harry bit back a snigger.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she stared at her daughter. Harry suppressed a smirk at seeing a glimpse of the old Hermione – she had used that glare on Ron and himself far too many times. Sneaking a glance at the aforementioned red head, Harry was amused to see that Ron was looking slightly happy that that glare wasn't directed at him for once. He refrained from shaking his head, thinking '_Some things never change._'

The girl shifted nervously on her feet. It seemed that she didn't need any further prompting from her mother to make her spill the whole story. "It wasn't me this time, I swear!" she blurted, wide eyed. "I was sitting all the way over there, so I couldn't have turned your hair pink, mummy." She paused, looking thoughtful. "Though I wish I could have…"

Harry laughed, as did Ginny and Ron, whilst the girl's face lit up in a cheeky smile. Hermione, however, just looked resigned. "What did I do to end up with such an incorrigible prankster for a daughter?" Harry heard herself mutter under her breath. "I mean, she's only _five_ for Merlin's sake! Bloody triplets!"

Harry shot her a look of surprise, which he quickly concealed. _'Who are the triplets? Bet you anything they're Weasleys…_' he thought, before realising that Riva couldn't hear him because she was too busy studying the newcomer with interest.

'_Oh, no…_'

Riva's expression was perfectly innocent to anyone except Harry, who could almost _hear_ the mischievous cogs clanking and turning in her head. Heaven only _knows_ what Riva was capable of doing when teamed up with a mischievous Weasley… the horror!

"Allie, sweetheart, this is Bluebell Jotary and her father, your new teacher, Professor Jotary," Hermione said, dispelling all of her previous despair with an adoring smile towards her daughter. "Bluebell, this is Alison Weasley."

"Pleased to meet you, Allie," said Harry, reaching forward and shaking her hand rather solemnly. The little brown eyes stared up at him uncertainly before her little face broke into a toothy grin. The grin got even wider as she spied Riva grinning at her from next to Ginny.

"Hello, Bluebell," she said cheerfully, reaching out a hand for Riva to shake.

Riva made a face. "Bell, please, Alison," she said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. "Bluebell is a _stinky_ name!"

Harry smiled amusedly as Riva shot him a very sly glance at this. It appeared she was still a little bit sore at being given a new name… and having absolutely _no_ say in the matter.

Allie also made a face. "Alison is a stinky name, too," she agreed, screwing up her nose as though her name was a particularly bad smell. "Come on, I'll show you round the castle!"

"Can I go Daddy?" Riva asked, eyes extremely wide, puppy style. "_Please_?"

"Of course you can, Bell," agreed Harry, turning towards the other three Weasleys. "If that's alright, of course?"

Ginny smiled and Hermione nodded. "Of course," the latter said. "That's actually why I asked Allie over."

"Great!" said Allie, dragging Riva by the arm, who quickly reached out and squeezed Harry's hand, sending him a quick final message, even as he sent one the other way.

***I'll keep an eye out for anything or anyone suspicious or useful, Harry. See you at lunch.***

***Right, but don't forget to play dumb. Not that it should be too hard for you…***

Riva shot him a glare that was so quickly replaced by a cheerful smile Harry was the only one who noticed. "Bye, Daddy!" she called, before she disappeared around the corner.

There was a brief silence after the two exited, Harry watching after them fretfully, just as a parent should. However, whilst most parents would be concerned about their child getting lost, falling down the stairs or even getting attacked by Boggarts, Harry was more concerned that his 'daughter' was going to end up blowing up the school and turning everyone into pink donkeys (after being turned into one by Glory five years ago it had become her signature spell).

"She'll be alright," said Hermione, making Harry jump as she came up behind him unexpectedly. She sighed. "Allie knows this school better than nearly anyone else." She shot him a wry smile. "Just _never_ tell anyone I said it." Harry smiled back, glad that at least _some_ of his friends were willing to be on friendly terms with him. Hermione dusted down her robes and turned her hair back to it's usual bushy brown with a flick of her wand. "Anyway, I have to get to work. I'll see you at lunch time, Professor Jotary."

"Sam," Harry said, hating how distant 'Professor Jotary' made him feel. Not to mention old.

Hermione smiled at him before walking out the door, Ron running after him, shooting him a "Bye, Jotary" as he went. Harry's shoulders slumped miserably as he watched where they had disappeared to. He couldn't believe that they were Ron and Hermione… well, Hermione he could believe. But Ron? Ron was always ready to accept people head on. Hermione was the more suspicious one by nature – after all, how could he forget the infamous Firebolt episode – but now Hermione seemed more open and willing to trust him. Maybe it was because of Riva. He just couldn't imagine what had happened to bring about such drastic changes in Ron.

Scratch that.

He knew _exactly_ what had happened to them.

They had been fighting a war, non-stop for 15 years, with no end in sight whilst he had been cosy and safe with the Children on the Island. He felt total disgust with himself. He didn't think he could face them again. Even if they began to hate him, he couldn't strip off the disguise he was wearing and show them that he was really Harry Potter, their best friend. Because Harry felt a traitor. He felt disgusted and ashamed to be the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Er, Sam?"

He had forgotten about Ginny, who was still in the Hall with him, watching him sadly. He jumped and turned around to face her, repressing the need to run his fingers through his hair again – his new sleek Malfoy hair did _not_ appreciate such a nervous habit. "Sorry, I was just… well…"

"Thinking about Kiera?" Ginny prodded gently, with a sad smile.

Harry didn't say anything (mainly because his first reaction was to ask "Who?" and then his mind had totally frozen), simply looking away.

"I still think about John," Ginny carried on, quietly, next to him. He was glad his face was hidden because his eyebrows shot up into his hair line. '_John? Pierce? Was he her husband?_' "It's silly of me I know, I mean, he died eight years ago, but every now and then it gets me. Especially when I look at them. I wonder if that could have been us. Having kids, pet names for each other and silly little habits and rituals that you do without noticing. Whether it'd be a boy or a girl. And the age long question: will their hair be the infamous Weasley red?"

Harry looked back at her, a small smile on his face at her attempt for humour, but his heart felt heavy. The Children had put protection on the people he already knew… it didn't extend to their future partners or children. He really felt for Ginny. She was smiling, but there was no humour in it and a trickle of a tear slid down her cheek. He felt like he was cheating her. He hadn't lost Kiera – she had never existed – but Ginny _had_ lost someone and she was bearing him her soul. Him, an almost complete stranger. She had known him for less than a day. Maybe she was really that lonely.

"I'm sorry."

Ginny looked over at him and smiled some more, wiping away the tear with a hand. "Thank you," she said sincerely, before becoming all business like. "Well, I guess I'd better start my tour. After all, that's what I'm here for."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, uncertainly. "After all, I'm sure you have more important things on your time than show me around. I'm sure I could find my way around…" He trailed off uncertainly.

Ginny laughed. "I've been here for the better part of my life and I still get lost!" she told him, grinning once more. "You've got no chance. I bet you can't even remember the way from here back to your room." Harry blushed red at this – and this time it _wasn't_ acting. He hadn't really been paying attention last night as to where they were going and this morning he had been too jittery to pay attention either.

"Well, I know it's somewhere on the fourth floor," he defended himself weakly, grinning back at her.

Ginny smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'll try and show you the more important places – if I try and show you everything you'd be lost in no time. And it's nice to get away from the desk for a little while."

Harry grinned and was about to reply when someone cleared their throat in front of them. Harry and Ginny both looked towards the door to see a woman standing there with orange robes and dirty blond hair. Her eyes – a sharp blue – stared at them with unusual intensity before she smiled. "Sorry to interrupt, Ginny, but I just have a problem with some of the 9 and 10 year olds. I don't suppose you could…?" She trailed off, looking hopeful.

Ginny shot Harry an apologetic grin. "I'll be back here in a few minutes. Sorry," she told him, before turning back to the orange robed woman and running over to her. "Alright, what seems to be the problem, Luna?" asked Ginny, as they began to walk away.

'_Luna?_' Harry's head shot up in shock to stare at Luna only to find that the two were already out of the door. '_Holy Merlin, I do _not_ believe that _that_ was Luna. Luna?_' A feeling of total incredibility ran through him. That woman had seemed… well, _normal_. Harry liked Luna a lot, but after two years of her company he could most decidedly say that she was _never_ normal. She was highly intelligent, had remarkable insights but she was perpetually dreamy, never really seeming to connect with the world around her.

Out of all the people he had met, Luna Lovegood's transformation was the most shocking and hardest to accept. For what in all the Universe could have brought Luna down to Earth?

He began to get a headache and he had a feeling that it wasn't going to be the last one. '_Grr.. this so _annoying!' he thought to himself, kicking a bench leg for emphasis. It didn't really help rid him of all the anger he felt and now he had an aching foot as well as a pounding headache. '_I have _no clue_ what's happened to everyone to make them this way. They shouldn't have had to fight this long. Couldn't the Phoenixes have trained me whilst I was still here? What would it have hurt them to just pop over and train me right now, whilst I was with all my friends and could have done _something?'

He was so lost up in his bitter reflections that he didn't notice when Ginny came back into the Hall, a few minutes later frowning slightly. The frown let up slightly when she saw Sam, but deepened again when she noticed he was just glowering absentmindedly at the wall.

"Er, Sam?"

"Sam?"

"SAM?"

The bellow was right in his ear and Harry jumped about a foot in the air, already pulling his wand out, ready to curse whoever it was, when his eyes met startled brown ones. Ginny, getting over her initial shock, quirked an eyebrow at him and he lowered his wand sheepishly.

"Nice reflexes," Ginny commented, leaning on the table and peering at him.

Harry tried not to tense. It didn't feel like a test, but in this new world he could never be too sure.

He grimaced. "Well, they're not that good, otherwise I would have noticed you coming into the room," he pointed out cheerfully, grinning at her. "And sorry, you know, for pulling the wand on you. I wasn't having… well, not very nice thoughts and I've been a bit jumpy the past couple of weeks."

Her gaze almost immediately softened and she smiled at him. "Understandable. Everyone tries not to sneak up on Ron or Si-Black – to name but a few – otherwise they'd be shipped off to the infirmary for a prolonged visit." Her smile seemed a little forced. "Everyone's prone to a bit of jumpiness nowadays."

There was that familiar twinge of guilt but Harry, for once, ignored it. Maybe he could find something out about Sirius. "I can imagine that," he commented wryly. "From what I heard last night, Black was all to ready to feed me to the wolves." He repressed the urge to wince at how hopeful he sounded. Fortunately, Ginny didn't pick up on it.

She sighed. "Yes, Black is like that." She gestured towards the door. "Shall we?"

Harry stifled a sigh as he followed her out of the Great Hall. Ginny hadn't seemed too keen to talk about Sirius and he couldn't really press her about him. She would want to know why and that would bring up the whole I'm-your-lost-saviour thing. '_I could always ask on the grounds that I feel I need to know if he _is_ going to feed me to the wolves,_' Harry thought, as Ginny began to lead the way up the stairs.

"So, what was Hogwarts like when… well, when you were at school?" Harry asked about five minutes later, trying to fill the silence that had descended on them. It wasn't awkward, but after climbing up seven flights of stairs with nothing but his own rather gloomy thoughts he needed something to distract him. Ginny looked as though she could do with chatting to someone new – just as she had said last night.

"It was… well, it was the best school in the world, wasn't it?" Ginny said, smiling at distant memories. It wasn't really a question. "Everything you'd expect: being late for classes, not doing your homework and trying to pull off a convincing lie when a professor asked for said homework." Harry grinned at that. Something he could definitely relate to. "And, of course, there were rumours and gossip flying about all over the place. And I was at school with Harry Potter – there was a _lot_ of gossip to circulate." Harry grinned even more at the truth in that although he didn't remember that as being a highlight of his educational career.

"I can imagine," Harry drawled, catching Ginny's eye. She laughed and Harry just grinned wider.

"He didn't deserve it, you know," Ginny said, quietly. The laughter had died from her face so quickly it was almost as if it had never been. "For all the titles and fame he was just another kid. No one deserved what he got."

They had both stopped walking at this point. Harry didn't know what to say to that. It had just been launched out of the blue – he wasn't ready to think about it. He just stood there, at a loss of what to say, do or even feel. Ginny was staring at a spot somewhere down the corridor, eyes clouded over. Suddenly she shook her head, turning back to Harry. "Sorry, Sam," she apologised, giving him a small smile. "You've got enough to deal with without me going all weepy on you."

"That's alright," Harry said, wondering what in Merlin's name he was supposed to say to her. "Everyone needs to go… er, a little 'weepy' once in a while."

Ginny shot him a truly grateful smile. "It's so obvious you're new," she told him, grinning, and beginning to walk forward again. A bewildered Harry was left behind slightly, but caught up to her just in time to hear her mutter darkly, "You won't be saying that in a few months." Harry pretended he didn't hear that.

The subject of Harry Potter didn't come up again as Ginny took him on his tour. Harry didn't know whether to be relieved about that or not. Sure, he was curious as to how people perceived him – hero or person? – but every time he thought about asking his stomach tied into a guilty knot and his curiosity was left unvoiced. How could he justify digging up past pains when he was the unwitting cause of them?

So, instead, they carried on chatting about Hogwarts. Ginny told him about Fred and George and their part in de-Umberidging of Hogwarts in her fifth year. Harry took extra pleasure in Ginny's recounting of that tale. He'd forgotten about Umbridge and her reign of terror. When he enquired about her whereabouts and Ginny informed him that she was dead… well, Harry felt even more guilty then. Especially as he didn't particularly care about her untimely demise.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said, strangely enough going red with guilt.

Ginny dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. "Don't be," she told him. "She died fighting on the side of the Death Eaters."

Harry didn't feel too guilty after that.

Upon hearing that Harry had supposedly never seen a Quidditch match – "It's not something they show on Sky Sports" – Ginny launched herself wholeheartedly into explaining the rules of the game and then describing some of the better matches she had played in or witnessed. Harry was embarrassed when he realised that he was the star of most of these – the first task of the Triwizard Tournament somehow worked its way in there, too – and hurriedly changed the subject.

Idle chat about past school days turned into a commentary on the lives of various people in the castle. Ron and Hermione had been married for 11 years. They had put it off for 4 years, too busy trying to find Harry and fighting Voldermort before everyone pointed out to them how perfect they were for each other. Harry smiled sadly. According to Ginny it had been a quite discreet and small wedding – well, as small as it could be when attended by all the Weasleys and their extended family. At that point they had still been outside Hogwarts, but it was only another 6 months before Hogwarts became their permanent home. Harry did some mental arithmetic and realised that they had been holed up in Hogwarts for nearly eleven years. As it was, their three children, Alison (5), Emma (7) and Harry (10) had never been outside of Hogwarts and surrounding Hogsmeade.

Bill and Fleur had already been engaged before Harry had disappeared. They had gotten married 14 years ago and had a boy and a girl – Benjamin, 13 and Felicity, 12. They used to have twin boys that would have been 10 this year but they had died at the age of 2 when the part of the castle they were in collapsed under the wrath of a rampaging Dragon the Death Eaters had set loose on the grounds as a 'Christmas present'. Twenty two children, Dennis Creevey, Roger Davis, Alicia Spinnet, the Patil twins, Seamus Finnegan, John Pierce and Michael Corner had died that day. Harry clenched his fists at this, barely managing to restrain his anger. As Hermione had pointed out at breakfast, you didn't have to be a child to have fits of uncontrolled magic. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do: to restrain himself from simply blasting his way over to Voldermort and killing him then and there. Apparently, when the Children had said they had protected his friends from harm, they had only meant a select group of friends: mainly, the Weasleys, Hermione and most of the Order. In other words, the ones that would be more useful to him. Harry shook his head, disgusted at himself. He knew that the Children had been hard pressed to put protection on just the few people they had. Stopping them all from dying via poison, a spell, physical trauma, disease and even old age was… well, highly improbable as it was, without taking into account the fact that they were all fighting a bloody war. If they had spread the protection to more than just those few… well, either every Child would have died of magical exhaustion and over-extension or the spell would have just malfunctioned. He was unbelievably grateful that his friends were alive… but that feeling of relief did nothing to quell the feeling of guilt he felt at the deaths of the others. In fact, it only raised the bar – Harry could now honestly say he loathed himself for that sweet euphoria he had felt, when other people – parents, siblings, children, _family_ – had lost someone because the protection on his chosen few did not extend to them.

Ginny hadn't looked at Harry during that particular speech. She had stared steadfastly at the floor, informing him in a dead pan voice and not once letting any emotion seep into her voice. The trail of wet splashes on the stone floor were the only clue to how their deaths had – and still were – affecting her. Harry, not knowing what to say, just walked with her in silence, letting her deal with ghosts of the past.

Neville Longbottom, whom Harry had already seen, was married to a small, brown haired witch called Grace. With a start, Harry remembered the woman who had been on the Wall with Ron and Neville. Was that Grace? He screwed up his eyes, trying to remember his very brief glimpse of her – trying to ward off a tantrum throwing Riva. He grinned to himself. Despite being the most annoying Child on the entire Island, Harry did have to admit she played the part of a stroppy child very well. Not to mention she tried her hardest to make him laugh when he was getting all gloomy and depressed. He wondered how many poor innocent bystanders she and Allie Weasley had managed to prank already.

As Harry already knew, Neville had a five year old son, Charles, but he and Grace also had a set of twins, called Frank and Alice. Harry found his thoughts wandering to the previous owners of those names: Neville's parents. What had happened to St Mungos? Had they managed to pull all those people out and bring them into Hogwarts? Harry shuddered. He hated to think about what the Death Eaters would have done to all those helplessly hospitalised when everyone retreated to Hogwarts. It was too awful to bear thinking about.

Charlie Weasley had married a French witch who had moved to England with Fleur, her best friend and now sister-in-law. Petranne and Charlie had gotten married 9 years ago and had one son, Pier, who was 7 years old. Due to a magical accident when she was in the labs – Petranne was a secretary, documenting results and new potions etc. – Charlie's wife was barren and unable to have anymore children. "But," Ginny had confided to Harry, weakly attempting a smile, "Pier is such a handful that Petranne and Charlie had already sworn off more children. All it means is they can't change their minds and inflict another Pier on us." Harry smiled at her attempt at humour and hypothesised that it was quite probable that Pier was a bit of a trouble maker.

The triplets Hermione had muttered darkly about at breakfast turned out to belong to – surprise, surprise – one of the twins. Red, Sam and Jamie were all 12 years old, worse trouble makers than the twins and, despite their rather misleading names, were all girls.

"You see, us Weasleys have rather a strong reputation for having lots of children – and mainly boys at that," Ginny confided in Harry as they walked past the charms corridor Ginny had pointed out as the subterfuge department yesterday. Harry was quite glad that he already knew his way about Hogwarts otherwise he would have no clue. Ginny was terrible as a tour guide, but a great person to chat to. "I mean, I was supposed to be a boy, too. It was a big surprise when I popped out. Though, I think I had a lucky escape. If I _was_ a boy they were going to call me Gerald." Harry tried to repress his snigger but didn't have much luck. Ginny shot him a knowing grin. "Yeah, terrible, isn't it? Anyway, what with Bill and Fleur having Ben, Angelina and Fred were convinced that it was going to boys. Especially when it seemed as though she was going to be carrying twins – twins are, by default, always male in the Weasley family. So Fred – aided by George, of course – already had their room decorated and their names settled: Sam and Jamie."

Harry stared at her incredulously. "It didn't occur to them at _all_ that they could be girls?" he asked disbelievingly. Actually, thinking about Fred and George Harry realised that he wasn't that surprised at all.

"Nope," replied Ginny, laughing. "You can imagine their shock when girls popped out – not to mention that there were three of them."

"Let me guess," Harry said, grinning, "triplets in the Weasley family are always female?"

Ginny grinned again. "Well, no one would know. We've never had triplets before. Anyway, whilst Fred and George were freaking out, Angelina just told them that they would call them Red, Jamie and Sam anyway and be done with it."

"Why Red?" Harry asked, curious. It seemed a rather random name.

Ginny shrugged. "All Angelina would say is that it was in homage to the Weasleys distinctive heritage and that red should be in there somewhere," she said, before breaking out into peals of laughter. "Both Fred and George fainted when they suddenly realised all three of the triplets were blond instead of red!"

Fred and Angelina seemed to be starting a rather obscure branch of blond headed female Weasleys. They had had four other children after the triplets – much to Harry's immense surprise and incredulity. He had had enough of Riva already and he'd only been her father for a day and a half. Imagine coping with seven children? '_Of course, Mr and Mrs Weasley have had to bring up seven children but… well, that's different. They were already like that when I met them. But Fred? Are you kidding me?_' There seemed to be something special about the number seven in a Weasley family, too. Whilst Saffron (10), Cinnamon (8) and Ginger (7) were all female – their names carrying on the red theme started with the triplets – Jonathon was the boy that Fred had prayed for. At four years old he would be in the beginners class… next year, for which Harry thanked Merlin. Despite Hermione's comment that Fred and George had calmed down a lot, Harry wasn't prepared to handle a class that contained two mischievous Weasleys _and_ Riva.

George had been married to Alicia Spinnet, with one little boy – Arthur – and another on the way. All three of them had been killed during the 'Dragon Christmas', as the incident had been named, leaving George alone to grieve. Harry felt sick at everything George had gone through. Loosing his children and his wife in one vicious stroke. Harry's murderous thoughts turned briefly to Draco Malfoy and that sneering face he had seen when he arrived in The Leaky Cauldron. Draco had created for himself a niche in the bloody hierarchy of Death Eaters, so much so that Ginny informed him that some of the children called him The Dragon, refusing to speak his name, just as they did Voldermort. Harry shook his head, but who could honestly blame them? Especially the ones that had been alive at the time and lost some one?

George hadn't married again but, in what surprised Harry most of all, had found his consolation in the company of Cho Chang-Davis, who herself was widowed during the Dragon Christmas. Marriage too painful for them after what had happened, they just comforted each other in the best ways they could. Cho had been pregnant during the Dragon Christmas and the shock of loosing her husband and first born, Caris, caused her to go into premature labour. Luckily, baby Lee – now 8 – had survived and roomed with his mother and adopted father George.

However, where Ginny went into detail – a surprisingly large amount considering Sam was a stranger to her – about the life of her extended family, she didn't say anything about anyone else. Harry couldn't very well ask her about Remus Lupin, Tonks and Mad Eye Moody without revealing who he was. He had only managed to get information about Neville off her because he had noticed the name on the registrar. Now he wished he had the foresight to memorise some of the other names.

But there was still someone that Harry _could_ ask about without sounding suspicious. However, after listening to what the various Weasleys had been through, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to hear Sirius' story. But he_ had_ to know. It wasn't a case of it could wait for later, or he would figure it out on his own. Ever since he first saw Sirius, the need to know what had utterly destroyed the only father he had ever known burned like fire in his stomach. It had none of the warmth of fire: although it burned him it was cold as ice. None of all the logical conclusions he had come to last night could work in this case worked. Yes, Voldermort had been the reason that Sirius had spent 12 years in Azkaban as an innocent man. Yes, it was indirectly Voldermort's fault that Harry had spent 15 years off on a mysterious Island training for said Dark lord's demise. But, somehow, Harry knew it was Harry himself that had caused Sirius to be this way. His absence, his loss, had destroyed Sirius Black.

They were heading back to the Great Hall by now. They had started their way at the top of the school and worked downwards. Most of the classrooms were on the top floor. The idea, Ginny had informed Harry, was that if Hogwarts was breached without warning then hopefully the adults would be able to stop them before they got to the children on the higher floors. Harry didn't like to point out that they could just send out dragons like they had at that Christmas or the fact that Dementors could fly (he wasn't supposed to know that about Dementors for starters).

"What happens if Hogwarts is breached _with_ warning?" Harry had asked, instead.

"We'll get to that later," Ginny had said, smiling secretively.

'That' turned out to be a place – and to be more exact, it turned out to be the previously forbidden corridor on the Third Floor. Harry had to stop the slow smile from forming on his face as realisation hit him. '_Clever, very clever._'

Stopping at the door that used to separate Fluffy the three headed dog from the rest of the world, Ginny turned to face him. "Now, _this_ is very important," Ginny told Harry, features serious. "This is where all the children – and the teachers of the younger ones (ie. _You_) – go when Hogwarts is being attacked. We call it the Refuge."

Harry made a big show of looking around the corridor they were in before gazing rather doubtfully at the average size door. Although Harry Potter would have a very good idea of why a corridor on the third floor would make an excellent hide out, Sam Jotary didn't. Plus, Harry was checking out some of the spells he could see worked into the stone work and wooden door. Glory was much better at this than Harry, but it would take a dead man not to feel the power coming off the doors. Harry also realised, as he was able to actually pick out what some of the spells where used for, that Glory at least must be getting very close to Hogwarts. His magical abilities – those due to bonding – where always much higher when he was near the magic Phoenix.

Ginny was laughing, drawing Harry back to the present. "Yes, I know, quite hard to comprehend, isn't it?" she said, gesturing at the door. "It was converted a long time ago by Headmaster Dumbledore to hide something from Voldermort. Of course, it wasn't exactly hard to breach back then. Ron, Hermione and Harry got through it all in their first year. Don't ask," she added, when Harry shot her a curious look. "It has, understandably, been updated since then. Nowadays, it only lets authorised people through."

"And who's authorised?" Harry asked.

"All the teachers, Healers and a lot of the Department Heads," Ginny said. "Most other castle residents would be fighting and we figured the fewer the better."

"Erm, without wanting to sound… well, stupid, if only those people are authorised to go through then how does that help the children?" Harry asked, stalling for time as he squinted at the spells over Ginny's shoulders as discreetly as he could. '_A spell that searches one's aura… that's good. Means that a Death Eater would be detected and refused entry._' Harry thought, as Ginny blushed.

"Er… I didn't explain that very well," Ginny apologised. "What I meant to say is that only authorised people can open the door way to Refuge. It requires giving up a drop of blood – just a pinprick, that's all!" she assured Harry hastily, when his eyes went wide. Harry was just playing along – he had already spotted that particular spell. "You also have to give a voice code and the doorway will only unlock if the voice corresponds to the blood."

Harry frowned at this. It sounded very… well, muggley. But then, Hermione was head of the research department, a brilliant witch and a muggleborn too. Harry wouldn't put it past her to suggest something like this. However, that wasn't what had Harry frowning. Even if it used spells rather than technology, it still could be tricked. All it would take is someone under the Imperius curse. Or – even more gruesome – someone's lopped off limb and some polyjuice.

Either she sensed his doubt or she was going to explain it anyway, Ginny carried on. "But, in addition to those, we also have a spell in place that can tell whether this is all being done through someone's own will. That way if the enemy ever got round to using the Imperius curse on one of us they still wouldn't get in."

Harry nodded at that, realising what the aura spell was for now. But with that second scenario… '_surely they could get in that way?_' Harry asked himself as Ginny demonstrated, placing a thumb opposite a small chip in the door frame, a slim needle in her pocket already in her left hand, ready to pierce the skin of her thumb. "Ginny Pierce," Ginny said clearly, pricking her thumb without some much as a wince. Under her breath she whispered. "Formerly known as Gerald Weasley." It was only due to the fact that Harry… '_let's face it, I'm not exactly normal full stop. Let alone when it comes to my hearing range._'

Harry had trouble not laughing outright at Ginny's password. He had even more trouble turning his just restrained smirk into a look of interest as Ginny pushed open the door. Before his eyes he could see the spells change and withdraw, leaving Ginny free to open the door. Grinning, she turned back to him as the door opened.

"The pass code should be something that's personal to you and very hard to guess," she told him, gesturing at him to enter the Refuge. "And you should never tell anyone or let someone overhear your password… just in case."

Harry nodded in comprehension, before walking forward into the Refuge, magical senses reaching out to examine all the spells that were more readily accessible from his new proximity. '_Very good strength spells on the walls – backed up by a reinforcement charm on the spell itself. Very clever. Bet Hermione thought of that – it's so obvious. I wonder why no one thinks of all these little improvements._' With the charm backing up the spell, not only would the spell work for longer, it would be more powerful and less susceptible to destruction by the Death Eaters. But it wasn't, Harry noticed, a way to stop them indefinitely. None of the extra spells were. They were just delaying tactics, to give those in the Refuge more time until help arrived from the castles' defenders. '_Of course, if everyone in the Castle is destroyed then they're all just sitting ducks, nicely cooped up and waiting for the Death Eaters._'

It was a cage.

Harry realised that Ginny was watching him expectantly and that he wasn't actually looking around the Refuge itself. Hoping he hadn't been staring off into nothing for too long, Harry began to actually pay attention to the inside of the Refuge. With a little jump he realised that it was… empty?

"It's empty!" he exclaimed, staring at Ginny reproachfully, as though it had all been a joke.

Ginny grinned. "Ah, but is it, Mr Jotary?" she asked, laughing when he just frowned at her. "Go on, take a look around."

Feeling a bit foolish, Harry began to look around the room. Inwardly, he berated himself. '_Of course it's not going to be empty, idiot,_' he mentally scolded himself. '_Not with all those protections on. And besides, didn't there used to be a trap door in here?_'

As soon as he had thought it, Harry's magical senses picked up on a very strong concealment charm, right where the trap door used to be. He paused, frowning at it, before walking over to look more closely. It just seemed to be a continuation of the stone floor, but that magical tint suggested otherwise. Realising that Ginny would be suspicious if he could suddenly and rather miraculously see spells, Harry didn't pause again, instead walking over that spot to see if he could feel the tell tale feel of wood under his feet. Well pretending to look at the walls in confusion, Harry caught a brief glimpse of Ginny's expression as he suddenly fell through the floor.

The phrase "Bloody HELL!" was followed by a loud "Ooof!" a few seconds later as he fell into the biggest pile of cushions he had ever seen. He actually sank a few feet before he got his wits about him. Unfortunately, having rather unexpectedly fallen what felt like a couple of miles and now having his face squished by a vibrant pink cushion with assorted purple and yellow stars, Harry found that he did not have much of a wit to regather.

"Bloody Hell!"

"Are you alright, Sam?" came Ginny's frantic voice suddenly.

Harry wanted to yell that no, he bloody well was _not_ alright – but by the time he had fought himself out of the cushion pile all he could manage was a "NO!"

Craning his head upwards to look at the postage stamp of light that was the trap door, Harry had a vague sense of déjà vu. '_It's hard to believe that was 21 years ago. Especially considering I'm only 22._'

There was a rush of air, a rush of black and vivid red, a loud 'oof!' and a red head poked itself out of the assorted cushions. "Little help here?" Ginny asked, grinning at him cheekily.

With a matching grin, Harry pulled her out of the pile. "You know, I don't think it's very fair telling poor, unsuspecting strangers to go walking around rooms where they fall through holes in the floor," Harry told her sternly, though his lip was curling upwards slightly. '_Look on the bright side, at least Riva wasn't here._'

Ginny wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, she was frowning at him, confused. "Well, you shouldn't have fallen through the trap door," she said, slowly.

"It was a bloody invisible hole in the floor – how was I supposed to know to avoid it?" Harry pointed out, a little annoyed. It was quite tiring to be on your guard 24/7 and now she was being all suspicious at him for no reason.

Ginny shook her head. "Exactly. You should have just walked over it, none the wiser and then asked me what the hell you were looking for." Ginny shot him a piercing look. "There's a very strong charm on that 'hole in the floor'. It's a concealment charm, but a very particular one. You can only fall through the trap door _if you already knew it was there._"

'_Ah._ _Right, she has got a reason to suspicious of me then._'

Harry opened his mouth indignantly. "And how was I supposed to know that?" he demanded. "Maybe your spell needs reworking, because I didn't see anything. All I did was walk around, thinking that there must be a secret passageway or a trap door or something and then I'm being suffocated by cheerfully bright cushions."

Ginny made a face. "Sorry, Sam – I mean how could you have known?"

Harry didn't say anything to that.

Ginny sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through her red hair. "Well, I suppose it does highlight a certain problem that that concealment charm could present." Harry raised an eyebrow at her and she elaborated. "Well, you're the first new person we've had to show the Refuge to. Apart from the kids, of course, but we just tell them where the trap door is. Everyone else in the castle was here when it was built." She gave him an ironic grin. "Seems Hogwarts aint too popular with the tourists these days. Anyway, what I mean is if you got through the charm because you thought that there was a trapdoor in the room then we might need to be more specific, otherwise any old death eater could fall in."

Harry nodded silently, thinking with a cold heart about the one flaw in their plan. Voldermort already knew where the trap door was in the third floor corridor. He'd been down there, when Harry had, in his first year, twenty two years ago. Sure, he had been sharing Quirrell's body, but he had still been there. So even if the charm was location specific, it would not matter. Voldermort would simply tell his Death Eaters and the Refuge would be breached.

Opening his mouth to point this out to Ginny, Harry hurriedly clenched his teeth together in annoyance. '_And how in Merlin's name am supposed to explain that I know that Voldermort has been down this trap door before?_'

Ginny was talking again. "… take you to the actual Refuge. I'm afraid it's quite a walk, but there are several chambers in between here and there with different defensive enchantments and so forth."

"Do I have to do anything to make them recognise me as friend and not foe?" Harry asked, jogging to catch up with Ginny who was walking very fast. He gave a wry grin. "I'd rather not get painfully decimated by my own defenders."

"Well, they're actually dormant for most of the time, and are activated when needed," Ginny explained. They had passed into one of the stone passageways that Harry remembered. It was very cold. Their breath rose in small little clouds. "We need them to be really effective and at their strongest. If they're on all the time the power in the enchantments is going to run down. When everyone's passed through each chamber the defences are activated by one of the adults." Catching Harry's rather alarmed look, she laughed and added, "Not that _you'll_ have to do that. One of the senior teachers will do it for now."

Harry nodded, frowning as he silently followed Ginny forward. As they passed through each of the defensive chambers Harry could feel the power of the spells pressing at him. They were very strong – an average Child would have difficulty breaking through even the upper layer of the spells. Harry himself, who, much to his disbelief, was more magically powerful than all of the Children, would have difficulty in breaking the enchantments. Each one would take him about four days on his own and about two when with his Phoenixes. Riva, to Harry's even greater disbelief, was the most powerful Child on the Island at the moment and when combined with her and her Phoenixes the breaking down of each enchantment would probably take a few hours.

Pondering his surrogate 'daughter' Harry frowned. Although he had lived with her for five years, Riva still completely confused him. He had known from the start that she was slightly batty – what other person he knew would find being turned into a pink donkey an intriguing challenge? Wrong question, he had grown up with Fred and George. Anyway, after a while he had just counted on Riva to do the most illogical thing possible. Except, sometimes, she did the most logical thing. Harry had given up trying to predict her actions by now although he could tell that whilst she was here she was going to do whatever caused him the most annoyance. Harry shook his head with a grin. Despite being so powerful, Riva had… well, _blocks_ was the best way to describe it. There were some things that she should be able to easily do… but she couldn't. It was completely beyond her. Whilst turning people into pink donkeys had become second nature to her now, ask Riva to transfigure a piece of paper into an envelope and she'd fall to pieces. Or if she tried a summoning charm, nothing would happen. The spell didn't even go wrong, it just never happened full stop. The spells she could do and couldn't do didn't even make sense.

"We're here," Ginny said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. '_Well, the term 'thoughts' makes what I was thinking seem organised. What I had was ramblings._'

Finally looking around, Harry was caught of guard. "Wow!"

The Refuge was quite impressive. It was about the size of two Great Halls and was lined with a soft, fluffy grey carpet. There was no sign, however, of the sturdy tables and benches that lined the Great Hall. Instead, various couches and armchairs were littered about the place, huddled in small groups or organized around smaller tables. There was even a corner full of bean bags. Various posters and drawings were pinned up over the cream walls – children's drawings, Quidditch posters (all of which were heavily outdated and seemed to be loosing their charms. In one Chudley Cannons poster (something Harry suspected had come from Ron's bedroom at the Burrow) the three chasers featured at first didn't appear to be moving at all. It was only later that Harry realised they were actually moving at a very slow pace), lists of various counter curses and defensive spells that would be useful.

He sensed, rather than saw, Ginny walk up behind him. "We've tried to make it as comfortable as possible," she said, "but it's hard when everyone down here knows what's going on above us. That's why we enchanted the ceiling" – Harry looked up at her words and noticed that the cave roof had been bewitched to mimic the sky outside – just like the Great Hall – "to make everyone feel a little bit more at home."

Harry drew his attention away from the ceiling, continuing his scrutiny of Hogwarts' Refuge. "What do you do for food?" he asked Ginny over his shoulder as he wandered over to some tables on the far side. Colouring books, some tattered books and games were dumped in a big blue and silver box set by some couches. On the other side of the room, a red and gold box held blankets and cushions.

There was a small clattering from behind him and Harry turned to see Ginny absentmindedly tidying away some wayward chess pieces. "The House-Elfs are the only castle residents – excepting Fawkes – that can travel immediately from one part of the castle to another. At breakfast, lunch and tea they simply set out the meals like they used to and it gets sent here."

Harry frowned. '_Is it just me, or are their Refuge plans fraught with holes?_' Harry thought to himself, looking around the Refuge again. '_I very much doubt that if Hogwarts gets captured that the Death Eaters will carry on letting the House-Elfs feed the enemy. All they have to do is kill the House-Elfs and then everyone here would die slowly of starvation. Or poison the food supplies. That way they wouldn't have to fight through all those enchantments._'

Ginny caught his frown as he turned back to her. "They won't give us away," she pointed out, frowning at him. "House-Elfs are bound to Hogwarts and _we_ are it's rightful inhabitants. Not Voldermort or his Death Eaters."

"I know," Harry said, still frowning, "but what if the Death Eaters kill them all? Or worse, poison the food?"

Ginny's frown let up as she paled slightly, but shrugged her shoulders. "You think we haven't thought of that?" she said, quietly, gaze intense in it's pain. "But you think we don't know what fate awaits our children if the Death Eaters make it that through into the castle. You might think that this is impressive but it's all one big delaying tactic." Her shoulders sagged. "If the Death Eaters make it this far past our defences… well, this is just a way for us to have a little hope. And poison would be a nice death compared to what the Death Eaters have planned for us."

There was an awkward silence. Harry's heart went out to Ginny as the now older woman's gaze became slightly unfocused. He didn't want to point out that any poison Death Eaters might chose would be far from a peaceful – and painless – way to go, or that starvation wasn't much nicer, either. Her shocking honesty showed Harry that they weren't oblivious to the hopelessness of their situation, but also that they were still willing to try and fight it out. He was amazed that they hadn't given up already. But then, what would wait any of them but death and/or torture?

Preparing to enter the Great Hall for lunch, The Refuge, Harry vowed to himself, would be the first thing to change.

* * *

Lunch was a much busier affair than Breakfast. At least for Harry, anyway. He rather sensibly grabbed a pair of sandwiches as Ginny whisked him off to meet the other members of the Head Table. Dumbledore spared him a cheery smile before turning back to a conversation with Ron, who nodded briefly at him, not stopping talking. It looked, well, _strange_ to see Ron talking so freely with the Headmaster. In the past, it had always been him, Harry, who Dumbledore had spoken with on a regular basis but now…

'_Sounds like I'm jealous,_' Harry chastised himself with an inward grin. '_And Ron's clearly an important part in the War – what did Ginny say? Him and 'Mione number three on Voldermorts' to kill list? It's just… odd._'

Much to Harry's delight, Ginny handed Harry over to Hermione with a grunt of "Need to eat!". Although he was finding he was getting on surprisingly well with Ginny, Harry wanted to get to reacquaint himself with his friends and Hermione was more than eager to chat to him too.

"How did you find the castle tour?" asked Hermione, smiling at him as she got up from her seat. Besides her, Ginny was already tucking in to a rather large helping of sandwiches and salad with a speed that resembled Ron and a dignity that most certainly did _not_.

Harry groaned in response to Hermione's question. Despite knowing Hogwarts as a school, learning Hogwarts as a War fortress was quite difficult, especially with the distracting talks with Ginny and not to mention the sheer emotional exhaustion he was currently feeling. Hermione laughed.

"I know it seems huge, but soon you'll get to know it really well," she told Harry, leading him slowly along the table.

"Even I eventually found my way around, though it took me several years," piped up a familiar-yet-not voice from next to them.

Hermione gave a small laugh and Harry, turning, found himself face to face with Neville Longbottom. If he hadn't have known that this war beaten man was Neville from the Wall, Harry would never have believed it. Up close, Neville Longbottom no longer resembled his mother. The round face that had originally belonged to Alice was hardened and quite thin. Like everyone else Harry had met so far, Neville showed the signs of war in form of several scars. There was only a small nick on his face, just above the left eyebrow, but his robes had shifted slightly to reveal quite nasty scarring on his left shoulder. Seeing the two gouges by Neville's neck, Harry shivered unconsciously. '_Vampires._' Only Neville's eyes, sparkling with quiet humour, and the small curved smile reassured Harry that this was the boy that he had known for 6 years. That and the fact that he promptly stuck out his hand and said, "Mr Joker, I presume?"

Hermione next to him rolled her eyes as Harry decided whether he should laugh or look offended.

"Honestly, Neville!" she said, exasperation softened by the small smile she shot him. "You're absolutely terrible at remembering people's names. It's Sam _Jotary_, not Joker!" Hermione turned to Harry who was trying not to both laugh and cry at this proof that his Hermione was still in there somewhere. "Neville has a tendency to forget things, though he's much better usually." She shot another exasperated look towards Neville, who was smiling sheepishly.

Harry stuck his hand out towards Neville, grin back in place. "Don't worry about it," he told Neville, "Jotary _is_ an unusual name."

Neville relaxed and shook Harry's hand, beaming. "Thanks," he told Harry. "And my memory _isn't_ that bad, really. It's sort of a standing joke that everyone tells me the wrong password to everything. No place important, mind you," he hastily assured Harry, with another grin, as Harry raised his eyebrows enquiringly, "just places like the dorms or – even worse – the toilet. Then everyone tells me I've forgotten. Just something fun to distract the kids really."

"You're too nice, Neville," a soft voice admonished from Neville's left. "If it were Hermione she would have had everyone's heads for that."

"Well, I do have a track record," Neville pointed out, turning to regard the speaker with a warm smile, "and I actually quite enjoy it, all the kids chanting at me each time. Sam Jotary, have you met my wife, Grace?"

Grace was quite short, but had pretty long dark wavy hair which was twisted into a messy bun. Her eyes were a soft brown that held the faintest trace of cinnamon in them. At the moment her lips were twisted into a shy smile at Harry. "Hi, Sam," she said, sticking out a pale hand for Harry to take. Reaching out to take it, Harry tried to stop himself screwing his eyes up at her. He didn't recognise the name, but then, since when did he know every witch and wizard in Hogwarts? If she was even at Hogwarts, that was. She looked quite young… well, younger than Neville, Hermione and Ginny. He was quite surprised that she didn't have any visible scars, even though her palms were as rough as everyone else's.

"Grace is a teacher as well, Harry," Hermione said, giving Grace a smile. "She teaches the class above yours – the seven and eight year olds."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Longbottom," Harry said, giving Grace a toothy smile.

"Same here," Grace replied, still smiling shyly. "If your class gets too out of control then just come to me for help. I'll be in the classroom opposite yours."

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning. Thinking about all the problematic children – namely Riva and Allie Weasley – in his class, he added, "So, I'll probably be running into your classroom sometime this afternoon then?"

All three laughed at that, though Harry spied Hermione's eyes narrowing slightly, thinking about her wayward daughter. "Our eldest son, Charles, is in your class," Neville commented, helping himself to a crusty roll. "He shouldn't give you any trouble – wouldn't say boo to a goose. Hope that's some consolation." Neville's eyes twinkled slightly when he said that, looking innocently at Hermione. Hermione glared at him and proceeded to pull Harry away from the Longbottoms, leaving Harry to send a laughing Neville and Grace an apologetic look.

"Sorry about that, Sam," Hermione said grimly, bypassing several people in her effort to be away from Neville's teasing. In fact, they were now on the other end of the table. And right in front of them was…

'_Bloody Hell._'

"Sam, I want you to meet Remus Lupin and his wife Nymph… er," Hermione faltered when afore mentioned 'Nymphadora' glared at her. "Er… Tonks," Hermione finished, pulling a face.

Remus Lupin had had quite a few grey hairs before Harry had disappeared but now the werewolf's head was completely grey. His eyes were still kind but he looked… well, exhausted to put it frankly. There were big purple bags under his amber eyes and the small smile he shot Harry looked like it took too much effort. Smiling as he took Remus' proffered hand, Harry wondered how far away – or how recent, he amended, catching sight of some fresh scratches on Remus' face and arms – the full moon had been. Harry's heart went out to his ex Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. '_How hard was it for him – _is_ it for him – having to fight a war and still turn into a monster once a month?_' He wondered when he was going to be told.

"Hi," he said, grinning.

Tonks, who, rather understandably, had determined to keep her old surname as her first name, had never looked more… well, _normal_. Her hair wasn't pink, purple, green, blue or any other absurd colour that she used to wear in her hair. Instead, it was a simple, mousy brown. Harry had trouble not to stare at her hair. '_Brown? Not even a particularly interesting shade of brown? Is she _ill_ or something?_' Although confused, he couldn't help a small grin. Only he would stare at Tonk's hair so intently when it was a mousy brain and not bat an eye when it was a shade of bubblegum pink. Dragging his eyes away from her hair, Harry met purple eyes – these he did stare at rather – that hid something darker in their depths. Tonks grinned at him. "Wotcher, Jotary!" she greeted, though her smile was almost as tired as Remus'. Remus, shaking Harry's hand, responded with a polite "How do you do?"

"Lost, overwhelmed and hungry," were the first words that first words that popped out of Harry's mouth and he blushed as they laughed. He had better be more careful… goodness knows what incriminating sentence could have popped out instead.

"Here, have a sandwich," said Tonks, tossing him a sandwich. Apparently, even fifteen years apart – and married to one of the most exact wizards in the world – could not quite cure Tonks of her clumsiness, as she managed to knock over a flagon of pumpkin juice as she threw Harry's sandwich to him. Hermione rolled her eyes as did, to Harry's surprise, Tonks, pulling out her wand and giving it a wave to clear the pumpkin juice off the table. Harry raised an eyebrow. The Tonks Harry had known would have immediately started apologising frantically to anyone in range. But Tonks seemed to have come to terms with her clumsiness.

"Tonks works with the Defence Department, mainly concerned with appropriate wards and making sure the Wall is practical for defence means," Hermione informed him, pulling him along to the next people as the couple waved him a cheery goodbye as they got back into a fierce conversation. "Before the War she was an auror – you do know what they are, right?" she asked, suddenly, shooting him an inquisitive look.

Harry nodded. "Like the muggle police only… well, magic," he finished lamely.

Hermione nodded, finding this acceptable an answer. "Well, she _was_ an auror, but when we moved into the castle she worked with the Subterfuge Department. She was a metamorphmagi, you see, and – "

"I beg your pardon?" Harry said, astonished. What did Hermione mean by 'was'?

Hermione looked startled for a moment before nodding and elaborating. "Oh… of course, you wouldn't really know what a metamorphmagi is. Oh well, a metamorphmagi is someone who can change their appearance at will in the blink of an eye; hair colour, nose shape, things like that." Catching Harry's raised eyebrow she added, "But you can't _learn_ to be a metamorphmagi, you're born with the ability. So, you can imagine, Tonks was really useful at spying – well, when she wasn't knocking things over, that is (she's quite clumsy) – but then… well, the toll of deaths just got too much and she was finding it harder and harder to change her appearance. When we all got stuck in here…" Hermione trailed off sadly.

Harry swallowed, unsure of what to say to that. Everyone had been so drastically changed by this war: Sirius, Ron, Luna and now Tonks. The old guilt surged back and he tried to quash it down. There was nothing he could do about it and blurting out apologies right now would _not_ be a good idea. Even if it did fill the awkward silence.

Hermione gave a small sniff and shook her shoulders. "Sorry – it's quite easy to get bogged down in gloom in this place," she said briskly, though sadness tinged the façade. "When I think back to being a student here…" she trailed off again, before smiling at Harry. "Come on, there's still a few more people I want you to meet. You don't mind do you?"

Harry's feet were already killing him, but he wouldn't have said yes, even if it meant crawling across the floor. He had to know what had happened to everyone. "No, of course not."

By the end of lunch, though, Harry was rather fervently wishing he had asked to sit down. After being paraded by Hermione up and down the table, his mind seemed to be going into meltdown, trying to cope with all the new faces he'd had to meet. Not necessarily new acquaintances, but new faces all the same. '_I can't believe how much everyone's changed… despite what I've already seen, the fact that these aren't the same happy-go-lucky people I left behind still hasn't sunk in._'

Luckily for Harry, Hermione seemed to be taking Harry's complete and utter shock as just being overwhelmed. "Here, have another sandwhich," she said sympathetically, putting one in his hand. "Don't worry, you'll get to know everyone in time. But don't worry about it now – I'd get your strength up."

"Wh-what?" Harry asked, suddenly, confused.

"Surely you haven't forgotten the pleasant class of twenty or so five year olds waiting in anticipation for your guidance, Sam?"

Ginny's voice by his shoulder made him jump rather violently. '_Wow, my magic's gone a bit funny – why the hell didn't I sense her sneaking up on me? Maybe it's all this stress,_' Harry mused, before the full meaning of Ginny's words sank in.

"Oh, bloody pho-er..mones," Harry swore, almost saying 'Phoenixes'.

Both women looked at him oddly. "Bloody pheromones?" Hermione repeated, eyebrow raised. "That's a rather strange saying."

"Americans," Harry said with a shrug, inwardly tense. "Keira had some rather bizarre sayings and… well, living with someone for nearly a decade and their peculiar sayings tend to rub off on you."

"Oh. Well, anyway, bloody pheromones or not, that's _exactly_ the attitude I want off my new teachers," Ginny said happily. "Up you get, Sam. Time to meet your new class."

If this had been a Bond film, she would have been laughing evilly.

And Harry's one and only thought was: '_I'm doomed._'

* * *

Thanks for reading! I was going to end this chapter with the first class, but it was getting quite long and I preferred it ending here. Hopefully you won't have to wait _quite_ so long for the next chapter! I'm trying my hardest to actually be good and motivated and FINISH my stories!!! Ah well... we'll see!

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


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